Knew Father
by ImperialJedi
Summary: AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural Occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since he was 10. Harry must deal with many unique attempts at his life and the ongoing war while studying to become a Healer and keep his parentage secret.
1. Knew Dursleys

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money off of this story. Thank you J.K. Rowling for creating the Harry Potter Universe and allowing us fanfiction authors and readers to play with your creation. Don't sue me :P

**AN:** This entire chapter has no dialogue whatsoever. At this point I'm just afraid that if any of them open their mouth that they will become OOC. Next chapter will have dialogue and will probably include more background and Harry's first days knowing he's a wizard. Sevitus is a story where Snape is Harry's father, but does not follow the Severitus' Challenge. Please enjoy!

**CHAPTER 1: Knew Dursleys**

Harry knew. He'd known for years now. He had found out exactly one year before the night that he had first found out about the wizarding world. He had told Hagrid, his first friend, that he was "Just Harry" in response to the news that he was a wizard. On the surface he had meant that he was just normal and not capable of magic. Hagrid was able to call him on it easily because Harry was not normal at all. He had a history of doing accidental magic whenever his emotions got out of control. Even worse was that there were other things beside his magical ability that set Harry apart. Many of these things did not have much of an explanation until Harry learned about the wizarding community and attended the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Of course, while he found many answers, he also found many more questions.

Under the surface, however, young eleven-year-old "Just Harry" was already struggling with his identity. For most of his young life he had believed that his parents, James and Lily Potter, had died in a car crash. As a result Harry had received a lightening bolt shaped scar upon his forehead and was left in the guardianship of his mother's sister, Aunt Petunia and her family. This was unfortunate, as Petunia had broken all ties with her sister Lily and remained to this day on bad terms with her memory.

Petunia's family was so uptight and chesty about appearing normal that they seemed to be abnormal for their efforts. Petunia and Vernon had met through mutual friends. Petunia was thin in an equine like way with blonde hair. She spent her days working at a mediocre marketplace and always keeping up with the local social scene. Vernon Dursley was a beefy man with a large mustache and was seen by his contemporaries as an up and coming businessman who dealt in drills. Not long after they got married and Petunia took up the Dursley name they had a son that they named Dudley. They were so enthralled with their son, thinking that there could be nothing better that they failed to notice the incredulity that gave way on other people's faces when they heard the regrettable name.

It was November 1st, 1981, that Aunt Petunia woke one morning to find one year old Harry on her doorstep. Little Harry was very cute wearing little pajamas accompanied with a cute beanie that covered his mop of fuzzy black hair. It had been a very chilly Halloween night, but Harry was wrapped securely in a forever-warmed blanket and set in a basket with a single letter. The person who had left Harry on the doorstep of the Dursley residence, number 4 Privet Drive, claimed it explained everything. The letter was quite short and would have been just as useful in explaining everything as it would be if the only thing printed in it was "42".

The Dursley couple, already very occupied with one very needy one-year-old, were quite resentful when they had no choice in the matter and were forced to take in Lily's now orphaned son. At first they two boys were cared for equally in all matters except for those pertaining to unconditional love. As time wore on their dislike for their additional burden began to show. Their nephew soon became subjected to various forms of neglect and emotional abuse. They called him by degradations such as "boy", "brat" and "freak". Harry also learned how to do both inside and outside chores early on and was put to work for long hours. It started to become common for the Dursleys to refuse Harry meals from time to time and the meals that he did get were always lacking.

Before entering primary school, Harry had merely slept in the cupboard under the stairs. Within the first month of school Harry was outdoing Dudley in all subjects. It was not long before Harry was grounded to his "room" for extended periods of time and denied access to his homework material. Harry became sick more often than his classmates because of bad nutrition and confinement to his cupboard. On the playground, Dudley, now grown to the size of a small whale, was the class bully. He liked to pick on other kids especially runty little Harry who was small for his age. Harry never had any friends because Dudley would discourage them with his fatty little fists and other methods of harassment. In class, teachers thought Harry was not motivated or very bright. Nevertheless, school remained the brightest part of Harry's day and he avidly learned his letters and numbers.

Harry learned the rules and customs of the Dursley's quickly and did all that was in his power to make his stay with them bearable. He didn't ask questions, he anticipated his family's needs, and he avoided bad situations, particularly Dudley on the playground. Despite his fortitude and cunning, Harry was dispossessed in a way because he was overly curious.

On his 10th birthday, Harry was dusting all the rooms in the house which was one of the more easy going activities he would take to from time to time when the Dursleys demanded it. He was in a contented mood having two adequate meals thus far, breakfast and lunch, with the promise of some dinner. Harry was idly wondering if Uncle Vernon had remembered it was his birthday and was treating him nicely for it. It would seem so out of character that Harry couldn't picture it because his uncle would be more likely to treat him worse than normal. Some people consider birthdays as their "special day", but Harry knew he was not special. Surely someone would have wanted him if he was, but his relatives made it very clear that they very much wished him to be anywhere but with them, all the while retaining his services.

Harry dusted off the shoe rack in his Aunt's closet. He stood up and pushed his taped up glasses back into position after they had slid down his nose. Surveying the closet, Harry observed clothes for the most part, but in the far back he saw a towering stack of loose papers, receipts, boxes, and was that the book they confiscated a while back? He tried not to step on anything as he slipped inside the closet and stood precariously tiptoe on one foot. Since his arms were not nearly long enough to reach, Harry placed a steadying hand on the tower and managed to grab a corner of the book. There was a phone book and several slippery recipes cards on top of the used copy of Oliver Twist. Pulling hard, Harry managed to dislodge the book, but the effort toppled him backwards and he banged his head on the closet door. The phonebook fell to the floor and Harry looked up in time to jump out of the way as the entire shaky pile fell over and sailed out the closet and across the carpeted floors like a game of 52 card pickup, but much worse.

At the time his Aunt Petunia rushed in screeching at the top of her voice at the "boy" for being so careless and disrespectful of other people's possessions. She carried on for several minutes until her voice became too hoarse to continue. Scowling she pointed at the mess and ordered Harry to pull it all out of the closet. It was about time she organized it anyway. Harry was directed in separating the different types of documents. Recipes in one pile, receipts and tax forms in another, mail here, and grade reports there. He moved around a lot, bent down, stood up, carefully loaded papers into the correct boxes, ran downstairs for file folders, ran upstairs, ran downstairs for paperclips, and ran back up again. Petunia sat serenely on the bed shifting through documents. In the end, the once treacherous pile had become a safe and solid tower of three boxes.

Picking up the last of the papers left out, Harry's Aunt thrust them into his scrawny chest causing him to stumble and nearly lose his balance. Harry looked down curiously at the papers. During their endeavor it appeared that Petunia had come across documentation pertaining to her nephew. In her shrill voice, Aunt Petunia explained that she and Vernon already did more for him then they needed to, so Harry should be responsible for his own papers. After giving once last sharp reminder about the importance of the papers she stalked out.

With a grin encompassing his face, Harry sped to his cupboard and quickly stored his new acquisition in a safe spot, tucked neatly in the back by the foot of the small mattress on which he had slept all his life. From out of his oversized hand-me-downs he received from Dudley, Harry withdrew the book, Oliver Twist, and hid it under his pillow. He was just closing the door when Petunia called the boy to the kitchen to help make dinner.

Later, that evening all the chores were done and Harry was allowed to go to bed for the night. Glad to be away from his gossipy aunt and obese pig-like uncle and cousin, Harry pulled the papers that he had gotten earlier into his lap. Flipping through the pile he saw that most of it was tedious legal documents regarding his guardianship. One of the heavier papers quickly found itself under the 10-year-old's scrutiny. He would have jumped for joy had he had the room in his cupboard. He had found his birth certificate.

It was a beautiful piece of parchment, with bright ink that almost seemed to glow and sparkle in a simple but elegant border design. All the information was there. His name, Harry James Potter, weight, height, black hair, green eyes, mother, father… It was all there, and that was when Harry learned that his birth father was not James Potter. Harry knew. He'd known for years now, ever since his 10th birthday, that he was, in fact, the son of Severus Snape.

The next day was Sunday and the Dursleys went on a family picnic. They didn't let Harry out of the cupboard. It didn't bother him as much as it normally would because Harry had a lot to think about.

* * *

AN: Big thanx to Manx for catching my typo with the date. I give cookies to you! (Edited 2/6/07) 


	2. New Optic Changes

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2: New Optic Changes**

"I don't know what to do," Harry bemoaned as he hid his face in his hands. Ron shot a quick glance from his position on his four-poster bed in their dorm room at Hogwarts before returning his gaze to his Quidditch magazine. Harry was sitting on his own bed, looking much like he always did. He was short for his age, on the thin side, and looked very tired with the bags under his eyes. The only change in Harry's appearance was to his hair. He had discovered that he could change his messy hair to a tastefully organized mess with application of muggle hair gel. While he thought his spiked hair was cool, it was the last thing on his mind at the moment.

Harry continued, "After last year, I don't think I can face him." Harry stood up and collected a few texts and his class schedule he had got this morning from his trunk at the foot of his bed. "He's made my life hell from the beginning, and now with Sirius gone…" He flopped onto the bedspread and opened a book not paying much attention to it.

"Who said you had to face Voldemort?" Ron frowned while sweeping some of his wayward red hair back with his hand, "Let someone else do it."

Harry glared at the thought. "Not Voldemort," he admonished, "Snape!"

"Geez, lead me on will you," Ron threw a crumpled up piece of paper at Harry. He looked disappointed when Harry snatched it right out of the air. "You're too good for your own good, you know."

"Doesn't help my problem," Harry answered. "I would just drop Potions, if I could, but I need it if I want to study healing. I just can't stand being in the same room as him." He opened the crumpled paper, saw that it was only an insert for a subscription of the magazine Ron was looking at, and hurled it forcefully into the trash receptacle.

The redhead furrowed his brow, "I thought you wanted to be an auror?" The year before they had had their career counseling sessions with their head of house, Professor McGonagall, and their most horrible DADA teacher to date, Dolores Umbridge. The session had been less of an opportunity to learn about any future careers he might be interested in then a spat between the two Professors.

"I didn't want to tell Umbridge anything, so I said what they wanted to hear. It's just assumed that the Boy-Who-Lived will always 'be there to save the day', right? Snape is not the only one who thinks I'm just like my dad," Harry spat out.

"I want to help people in a different way than fighting and war. I've had enough of that to last a lifetime." He removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve his aching eyes. "With my extensive experience in the Hospital Wing, I've witnessed first hand the importance of healers. I think it was sometime in third year that I decided that that was what I wanted to do, if I grew up." Harry replaced his trademark glasses and then looked at the grandfather clock.

Ron caught the movement and looked the same way. "_When_ you grow up, Harry." Ron eyed Harry for a reaction and receiving none continued, "I think you would be a great healer. Wait until Hermione hears, she'll probably make you study more. Speaking of which, it's almost dinnertime, do you think she's back from the library yet?"

Despite the far off look of contemplation Harry had, he managed to grab his outer robe and check his wand before calling, "Yea, let's go," over his shoulder leading the way down to the common room.

* * *

Everyone took their safety for granted, but Harry had encountered too many dangers just inside the castle walls. This year he knew he had to keep alert and follow the auror Mad-Eye Moody's motto of "Constant Vigilance!"

Walking behind his best friends, Ron and Hermione, Harry allowed his expression to darken. While he was honest with them in most aspects, he did his best keep them unaware of his other moods. Last year he had exploded at them and they thought it had come out of nowhere. In reality, it had always been a part of him.

Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was already seated at the head table in the Great Hall when the trio entered. Harry swept the hall with a glance, making a brief inventory of everyone's location and any unusual arrangements or articles. He avoided eye contact with any of the teachers especially Headmaster Dumbledore and the Potions Master.

"Hermione, is there a way to take a NEWT exam without taking the course?" Harry asked once they were seated at the Gryffindor table.

"You're not trying to get out of Potions, are you?"

"Of course he is," Ron exclaimed while pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"Well," Hermione began, her eyes glowing with the joy of sharing her knowledge, "I believe that there have been some instances where a student has been able to challenge certain courses by taking and passing a NEWT exam early. Then the classes would be unnecessary. It doesn't happen very often and the teachers often discourage it because there is a lot of material that is covered in class that the NEWT exams don't cover in much detail or not at all." She paused and looked at her food skeptically. "Well, what's your call, Harry?"

She was referring to Harry's judgment on the meal before them. During the conversation, Harry had been absently watching who had been taking from what plates, checking smells, appearance, and consistency, and most tellingly, what had been consumed safely by their housemates. "I'd wait on the juice a few more minutes, but the mashed potatoes and salad are clear. The meat seems a little off, but I'd pin that to the cooking and not any type of sabotage. I'd say keep to the ones that are _well_ done. Also, I feel some…magic around the pie. Don't eat it. I don't know what, but it's contaminated with something." Harry shook his head at his own paranoia.

His fear of being poisoned came over the summer with nightmares of a vindictive father, one master of potions or poisons, who pretended to care. Then he would kill him slowly and tortuously with his evil concoctions to rid the bad stain that was one Harry Potter from his record of procreation.

The worse one was a really bizarre one where Snape actually cared about him. Harry found himself on the floor before a hissing veil with red eyes. The veil was like the one Sirius Black, his godfather, had fallen through in the Department of Mysteries, a few months back. Whispering and laughing voices came from behind it. They laughed maliciously as Harry was forced to choose between starving and having a plate of food that had been lovingly made with great care for him by Snape. Unknown to Snape it had been poisoned by a rat. Snape's heart for some reason would be literally torn from his chest if Harry refused to eat it. Stuck in a conundrum, he took too long to decide and Snape was discovered as a spy, so Dumbledore forced Snape to eat Harry's own heart! It didn't make sense, but being a dream, it had felt very real at the time. Now it was quite disjointed and complexly absurd.

"Neville, how's the pumpkin juice today?" Ron asked. Neville looked up looking quite guilty with a pumpkin juice mustache. He mumbled something about it being tasty before realizing his new facial feature. Laughing, Ron turned to his friends, "Cheers."

The trio enjoyed the rest of their meal with quiet conversation between themselves. Harry tried to work out a way to convince Dumbledore to allow Harry some sort of independent study of Potions without having to spend much time with either him or Professor Snape. They were just finishing up, when around them a many of the students around them turned into light yellow Canaries.

"Oh, I should have recognized it," Hermione said miffed at her own oversight. "It's a Canary Crème Pie! Fred and George tried it out once at the Burrow over the summer. Good eye, Harry." Harry shrugged. Much like everyone noticing everything rattling in the room when Harry was losing control of his magic, he could feel the 'rattling' created from the prank pie created by Ron Weasley's older twin brothers. This heightened sense did not come often, but he found it more common when he was in situations of extreme stress.

It was Thursday. Potions classes were scheduled on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. His father taught Potions. His father hated him. His father didn't know he was a father. Harry rubbed at his eyes, agitated.

* * *

In the time following his own discovery, Harry examined the birth certificate many times. It looked perfectly normal to him, but then it was the only one that he had ever seen. He did know that usually one's mother and father were married and shared the same last name. Naturally, even that aspect of Harry's life was messed up.

On the precious document it stated that 'Potter, Lily Mae', maiden name 'Evans' was his mother's name, not Snape. It took many nights before Harry had worked it all out. While his father was this Severus Snape character, it was clear that at the time of his birth his mother was married to James Potter. Harry thought this was a good thing. He felt that the name 'Harry Snape' sounded really awkward off the tongue and forever resisted the thought of being named so terribly.

In the months after July 31st, his birthday, Harry came back time and time again to the sturdy piece of paper. When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened. Now that he had some unknown relation, he had no way to determine where that relation was or if he was even alive.

All through the first term of school, Harry imagined what it would be like to be reunited with his dad. He pictured moving in with his dad and spending time with him. His dad would teach him, listen to him, bring him places, comfort him after nightmares, and be proud of him. After winter break, Harry felt he came back to his senses. The parchment recording his birth had changed little in his life. He still lived with the Dursley's, he still was yelled at for existing, and he still had broken glasses.

* * *

Harry was going up to see Madam Pomfrey for two reasons. Upon entering the hospital wing, he spotted the Hogwarts nurse tending to a first year with some odd sort of allergy that was making his left eyelid swell up. Deciding to wait until she was available, Harry soon witnessed how a trained mediwitch would deal with such a dilemma.

Harry automatically sat on _his_ cot. He had been to the sterile environment so often that he actually had a bed with his name on it. Mind you it was just a piece of parchment that had his name written on it with an average quill taped up on the headboard. Ron put it up as a joke while he and Hermione were sitting through yet another vigil by Harry's side.

_That's it!_ Harry thought, coming to a decision, _I'll go to one class and see if I survive. I won't give anything away. He won't ever know. Before I wished he did and that he would change, but now it's too dangerous. Not only Voldemort, but also Dumbledore could profit greatly from this._ He growled.

"Now, now, Mr. Potter. Surely, it's not that bad?" The mediwitch looked down kindly at the teen, startling him so bad that he had drew his wand and had it pointing directly her.

Harry pulled a sheepish grin and put his wand back in its holster. Inside though he was berating himself for his lack of awareness of his surroundings. "Sorry Madam Pomfrey. I guess I'm a little on edge right now."

"That's alright dear. Now, what are you here for? Is your scar giving you any trouble?"

"No, ma'am," he answered. "It's my eyes, they've been hurting for a while now and I'm beginning to suspect that the prescription is off." Pomfrey made a motion for Harry to hand over his glasses and then she went about doing a couple of charm-related tests before doing a quick inspection of his round spectacles.

"You're right, Harry." She muttered a spelled and Harry felt he might have imagined the glasses glow for a second or two. "Your vision has improved by half and it appears to still be healing. Eyesight just doesn't get better by itself though. It usually requires some kind of surgery, either muggle or magical, to be fixed. In your case, however, I would seriously consider whether you want to continue to wear your glasses or not. You might not need them in a month or two."

"I think it would be better if everyone still believed I'm blind as a bat without my glasses. It would be quite an advantage wouldn't it?" Harry asked.

"Why yes, it would be," she agreed. "It's getting late, is there anything else, Harry?"

Standing up, Harry tried to quickly to think how to best approach the request he wanted to make. _Not tonight_, he decided. "Err, do you have time to sit down and have a meeting or something tomorrow? I had some questions I'd like to ask you."

"Oh, whenever you can come in Harry. Unless there's someone needing care, we can talk anytime in my office. Right now, you have fifteen minutes to get to your house before Professor Snape or Mr. Filch starts prowling. Goodnight Harry." With that Madam Pomfrey pushed Harry out into the hall.

Walking speedily down the lengthy corridors, Harry admired his new vision and lack of a headache. He waited until the portrait of the Fat Lady closed behind him before returning his wand of holly into its sheath. If only everyday could be as safe.

* * *

9/6/2008 Proofread with minor corrections made.


	3. New Injury

**Knew Father**

By _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens. AU

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Author's Note posted at the end.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3: New Injury**

Harry never made it to his potions class that morning. He was currently watching the blurs of colors passing him by. Most of it was brown, interrupted frequently by large black archways leading to other hallways that branched off the one he was currently on. Here and there would be some blue of a student's tie or the blond of someone's hair.

Sometimes there was a double image and sometimes a snow would come to his eyesight like the static on the muggle televisions. He couldn't focus and he felt like he was going be sick and pass out all at once. His body shivered as if cold despite the school cloak covering his inert form and drawing painfully across his wounds. He had to stay awake, but this was the only thought that he could keep. Harry concentrated on his whirling surroundings as sideways as they were.

Beside him was Professor McGonagall, who was using her wand to navigate Harry's stretcher to the Hospital wing. Some of the students didn't have class this period and a few of them froze at the sight of Harry's injured body. McGonagall was running quite fast while masterfully keeping Harry's ride smooth and level. She relied on her stern and steady voice to break those paralyzed students out of their stupor. "Out of the way, Maplethorpe!" Once addressed the fourth year Ravenclaw jumped out of their path and sidled up next to a rusty suit of armor.

The poor student still looked horribly upset, and the deputy headmistress looked down at her charge as she and Harry's stretcher flew by the wide-eyed teen. Harry's glassy green eyes paid no mind as he was fighting a battle to stay awake. "Mr. Potter! You have a concussion and must stay awake!" Professor McGonagall lead them around a corner and the sharp turn sent blood splashing upon the nearby stonework. "Harry, we're almost there. Stay awake now." She noted his shallow and shortening breaths and quickly remonstrated him about it. "Focus on your breathing, Harry! In and out, deep breaths, in and out! Keep it up. Here we are." A flick of her wand and the Hospital Wing's door flew open.

Once again, Harry was on his own hospital bed. It had been easy for his Professor to transfer him over and in that time she had been able to vocally summon Madame Pomfrey from whatever the school nurse must tend to when there are not injured or sick ones abound. She immediately started examining her most frequent visitor while at the same moment inquiring, "What happened?" It was the most obvious question and the other witch shared all that she could.

"I was just stepping out after my last class to go get the candles we were going to use in my next class," Professor McGonagall explained with a determined expediency. "I was not but a few meters out the door when there was a loud noise and the hallway shook slightly. It was an explosion, but I couldn't identify the spell or exploding potion from which it had originated from."

"He's entirely torn up. The front of his body is just littered with shrapnel," the Hogwarts nurse verbalized. She had already forced a stimulant down the youth's throat to keep him awake. The cloak had also been removed and the skilled medi-witch used magic to begin extracting the largest and most serious pieces of foreign material that had become embedded in Harry's body. A mild disinfectant potion was applied and then a variant of a laceration mending charm was used. Each and every individual point of entry had to be given the same attention and treatment. After four pieces of intruding steel had been removed from Harry's upper torso Madame Pomfrey handed the pieces to McGonagall for her inspection. Returning to her precise wand-work she sought more information, "Were there any other injuries?"

"Well, after the explosion itself, I ran down the corridor and found a large cloud of smoke. There was a horrid smell of burning flesh." Deputy Headmistress McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory before continuing. "I had never smelt it before, but it was easy enough to surmise what it was. At first I saw Mr. Potter lying on the ground and every half-minute or so, he'd have some kind of convulsion. Next I saw was obviously the point at which the explosion occurred about thirty meters away. There was a lot of debris, schoolbooks and quills for the most part. I didn't see anyone else, and Mr. Potter was very injured, so I hurried him up here." Having told her piece, the Professor looked to the screw, BB, and two smallish twisted pieces of scrap metal in her hand. They would have been curious artifacts in any other situation, but any curiosity was overcome by alarm at the sight of darkening blood on the offensive scraps.

"I'm not quite sure what to think of whatever this is," Pomfrey confessed waving her free hand at the tray containing all the pieces she had pulled from Harry's body so far. Now and then the boy would flinch, but his eyes were still glassy and far away. "Please get the Headmaster, Minerva. He'll need to start an investigation and find out what happened." The nurse gently moved the boy's arm into a better position in which to remove a piece of glass. "I don't think any of us expected an assassination attempt at the Boy-Who-Lived this early in the year."

The stern Headmistress nodded and then swiftly moved in front of the roaring fireplace located near the back of the wing. After fire-calling Headmaster Dumbledore, she returned to Harry's bedside. The pile of shrapnel in the pan was growing each minute, but it looked better for the one where the metal pieces were coming from. "I must get back to my classroom. Please keep me updated with his condition. I'll be by to discuss it with you later and Albus will likely to have a security meeting later as well." Receiving her reassurance, Professor McGonagall left to deal with her other responsibilities even with the crisis that had just happened.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape had the unpleasant duty of lunch monitor this Friday. So far it had been a blessedly Potter-free day. He had not shown up for Potions earning him a zero for the day. His friends, the other two-thirds of the Golden Trio, had looked worried and all the more inattentive to their potions. A solid twenty-five points had been easily deducted from Gryffindor. It would have been more had the Granger girl not kept the young Weasley from making even more of a scene. It's was so typical that he wondered if they would ever catch on to the fact that they repeated the same moves every lesson and came out with the same result. The Potions Master smirked at their incompetence.

Finishing his midday meal, he glared once more to each of the tables verifying that the Gryffindor Trio were still missing and that Malfoy was passing a small packet to an older Hufflepuff student as they crossed paths on their way out of the Great Hall. Some lessons were better learned the hard way.

* * *

It wasn't until his 7th year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff potions class that Snape discovered what had been exchanged in the Great Hall. It wasn't long before Mr. Trenton found himself being personally escorted by the Head of Slytherin house to the hospital wing for an overdose on a magical controlled substance. Hufflepuff found themselves down ninety points that evening, forty of which were for Mr. Trenton promptly throwing up at Snape's feet.

Madame Pomfrey was closing windows for the night before the young man in question had finally been sent off to pack. Not only had he received a painful magical detoxification, he had suffered through sad disappointment from Professor Sprout, his Head of House, a harsh verbal beheading from Professor Snape, and a thorough drug education lecture from both of them and Madame Pomfrey. Now he was to be expelled. As soon as he could, Mr. Trenton ran from the hospital wing and the teachers waited until the slam of the door was heard before dispersing themselves.

It was at this point that Harry Po-, just Harry, woke up. He remained motionless with his eyes closed, but if anyone were paying attention they would have noticed the change in his breathing. Feeling dazed and disoriented he tried to get his mind back in order, but it was difficult as Harry could hardly remember where he was or how he got there.

"Mr. Potter," muttered the Potions Master, pausing on his way out. The brat had no doubt been faking illness to skip class. Since that was the case, he might as well see if he had been clearing his mind before going to sleep. Professor Snape pulled out his wand and silently cast the _Legilimens_.

Professor Snape was surprised to find that Harry was in fact half asleep rather than fully unconscious. There was a strong current of memories that swiftly carried Snape's presence along. A few stray memories held longer and he witnessed a piece of one of Harry's more successful Quidditch games, a meal in which a snowy white owl joined Harry for breakfast, but with no mail, and scene in which Harry worked diligently on one of his History of Magic essays in mid-November of last year. Each was equally tedious as the others and Snape quickly worked his way out of the main stream of these uneventful thoughts.

He caught onto one that was whirling in no particular corresponding way to the others and found Harry running after an angry 4th year from Ravenclaw. The brown-haired boy he was after seemed unnaturally wide around the middle, the clothes covering strange angles. The younger student disappeared around the corner. Chasing him into the Transfiguration department, Harry had spotted the boy stopped farther down and reaching inside his cloak. The next second Harry was flying backwards as the boy's body exploded and shrapnel flew at a lightning speed in all directions. The 4th year disintegrated before Harry raised his arms to cover his now highly cherished eyes and the memory ended.

Suddenly something clicked and the memory was collected and deposited behind Harry's wallpaper of neutral memories. Coming to his senses, Harry first accidently pushed Snape's presence into the solid barrier that was covered with his "wallpaper" and had kept him from going insane in the past. Then he managed to kick the Professor completely out of his mind.

Snape growled and picked himself up off the floor. Harry opened his eyes and looked warily at his father. It was the first time he'd had to face him since the last unfortunate Occlumency lesson the previous year. If he needed anyone, he wouldn't need anyone more than he needed one now. Opening his mouth to speak, Snape cut him off, "If you had any respect for your mutt of a Godfather, you would have learned your lesson and practiced Occlumency over the summer." He sneered vindictively, "Once again you have succumb to your Gryffindor stupidity and gotten _another_ person killed due to your own sense of superiority. I will be reporting this new information to the Headmaster at once. I suggest you do your best not to be a _burden_."

With that Harry's last chance of family stalked out of the Hospital Wing for the Headmaster's office. He hadn't even gotten a word in edgewise, but it probably wouldn't have mattered. Like him, his biological father was naturally stubborn. There was no way they could ever be family, not when Severus Snape _hated_ him. Harry had experienced hate from kin before and it was not something he thought he could survive through again when he had so much to deal with already. Besides, he could deal with hate from the evil git Professor. He had since he first attended Hogwarts. It was all right as long as they weren't related. If Snape didn't acknowledge it, it wasn't real in Harry's mind. He'd just mask the thought under even more memories.

At this point there was only one thing that Harry could look forward to and that was his healing lessons and semi-apprenticeship with Madame Pomfrey that he had arranged with the medi-witch this morning, right after breakfast. Lying back down on his bed, Harry noted that the front side of his body felt tingly all over. It was nearly like a limb falling asleep, but not as concentrated. He would ask later, but for now he need to rest, for his eyes felt as if they were the heaviest in the world.

* * *

AN: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you don't mind my use of minor characters like Maplethorpe. They aren't important to the plot, but I'm trying to keep the castle from seeming empty. lol. I'm really tired right now, so if you see a glaring mistake anywhere, please point it out to me. I'm still experimenting and learning from my writing, so if it's crummy I apologize. Luckily, there are tons of good fanfics out there to make up for newbies like me. Thanx for reading and catch everyone later :) -IJedi 


	4. Knew Torment

Knew Father

By _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew since he was 10 years old. New, unique methods employed to end Harry's life during his 6th year at Hogwarts lead to Snape discovering his paternal secret and natural skill in Occlumency. AU

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any other copyrighted material. However, I do currently possess a number of student loans that you are welcome to relinquish from me at any time. Please. Author's Note posted at the end.

* * *

CHAPTER 4: Knew Torment

The days following Harry's first hospitalization of the year was filled with a pandemonium worse that any of the previous years. Most of the children and a few of the Professors at Hogwarts had never encountered such a violent form of muggle warfare. Soon the term "suicide bombing" was upon everyone's lips.

Albus Dumbledore summoned Harry to his office not long after he was released from Madame Pomfrey's care. "Dobby must take Harry Potter to Headmaster Dumbledore!" The house elf seemed to have come out of nowhere.

Dobby had arrived just after Harry had finished changing. "Hi Dobby. It's great to see you again."

"Dobby likes to be seeing Harry Potter. Harry Potter, sir, keep getting bigger and bigger." Harry grinned at Dobby. He had started growing faster than usual, but he was still relatively short to his classmates.

"Well, let's get this meeting over with. I have a lot of work I have to catch up on." Waving goodbye to Madame Pomfrey they walked down the noticeably empty hallways. It was awfully quiet and Harry wiggled his fingers on his right hand, working hard to resist drawing his wand from its holster. His uneasiness lessened upon the sight of the Gargoyle.

Dobby cheerfully shouted the password, "Reese's Peanut Butter Cups!" Turning to the young Gryffindor, the house elf bowed and said, "Goodbye, Harry Potter. Dobby wants to see you again soon."

"I'm sure I'll see you soon. Say hi to Winky for me, if you can," Harry watched as the oddly dressed elf nodded and then snapped his fingers to disapparate before he entered the Headmaster's office.

"Harry, please, sit down," the Headmaster gestured to a well-padded and very comfortable chair. "Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape have already told me what they know of the incident. What I would like to know is how you ended up running after Mr. Ciardulli and if you have any idea as to why he would, as they say, blow himself up?"

Angry at both Dumbledore's past manipulations and at Snape for stealing his witness account from Harry's very own head, the Boy-Who-Lived was left with very little to tell. Lightly fuming he kept he tried to answer clear and to the point. "I just got out of Charms and was heading down to Potions. There were many students in the halls. When I came to the blue suit of armor by the courtyard I heard one dare the other to do something. I looked over and saw a seventh year Hufflepuff conversing with a fourth year Ravenclaw." By this point Harry had accepted that he was angry and moved on to a calmer state of being in order to describe what happened.

"I had really wanted to start the year off well in Potions, so I paid them no mind. From there I continued and pulled my summer assignment from my bag." Harry furrowed his brow in thought. "The younger Ravenclaw, he ran up and stopped right in front of me. I wondered what he wanted and for a moment he looked very shifty and eyed everyone around us. The next thing I knew, he grabbed my Potions paper. I tried to Accio it back, but he seemed to have some kind of countercharm on him. I needed that parchment, so I ran after him through the Transfiguration hallways. The last thing I expected was for the boy to detonate an explosive that was strapped to his body!"

Dumbledore pointedly ignored the fact that Harry had attempted to use magic in the corridors and instead looked down through his half moon glasses at the files on his desk. "The Ravenclaw was named Caedes Ciardulli. We know this because he is the only student unaccounted for. Professor Snape has been able to confirm that fact as well. The Hufflepuff student also sounds like a key player in this. Can you describe what he looked like?"

Harry gave a somewhat vague description of the other suspect, but Dumbledore looked satisfied. "Caedes," Harry began attentively, "he looked like he was going to set the bomb off by the courtyard, but then changed his mind at the last minute. Instead of getting all the people around us and me, he decided to just get me. The Seventh Year left pretty quickly, so he was not intending to become a martyr as well. I suppose we should be relieved that Caedes grew a conscience and just lured me to a deserted corridor instead." He was at least trying to be optimistic, but that continued to be difficult as he had more people die around him then any other teen he knew.

Having answered everything that was needed of him, Harry looked forward to getting some more rest. The weird after effects, such as the tingly sensation had gone away. Now he was just exhausted with maintaining with the constant Occlumency that normally would have come so easily for him.

Dumbledore had to escort Harry back to Gryffindor tower. The school had been placed under a sort of lockdown. Every room was locked and all students and visitors were escorted between locations.

Sometime during Harry's explanation he had come to terms with his feelings and logically decided that he should forgive the Headmaster. Harry wanted to work with the old man to defeat Voldemort. This time he wouldn't be as deluded about Headmaster Dumbledore and his cognition.

* * *

Another person for whom Harry had lost his delusions about in the following weeks was his father, Professor Snape. Monday had come around and Harry found himself poking at his scrambled eggs. Sometimes he just wanted to go away for a while and forget about everything. Now he couldn't even slip away from Great Hall. His head of house, Professor McGonagall, had escorted the entire Gryffindor house down with the help of Professor Sinistra. At 7:50am they would be required to meet up with their first period teachers to be walked to class.

Ron didn't have an 8 o'clock class so he opted to sleep in. Hermione sat opposite of Harry and feeling his mood, gave him the space he wanted. When the time came they stood and joined the others. Hermione joined a group gathered around Professor Vector and Harry met with three other Gyrffindors around one of the five Aurors sent to help with security. He would lead those without class back up to the Gryffindor tower.

After his open period, Argus Filch, Hogwarts' caretaker, and his cat, Mrs. Norris, would take Harry to Potions class. Rumor had it he lost a bet to Snape and in turn he had to do this for him. No one was brave enough to ask either of the menacing figures whether the bet really happened or what it about.

When he arrived in the Dungeon classroom, Hermione was already there. She had been escorted from her Ancient Runes class, which was much closer. The other students there were either catching up on reading for one of their classes or having a quiet discussion with their friends.

Harry pulled out the old, but sturdy chair and placed his book bag on it. Rifling through it he found his Potions essays. First checking that both parchments had his name on them, he carefully rolled them and set them on the scratched and stained potions table. The longer one was his freshly rewritten summer assignment and the shorter one was the on that Hermione had informed him of as the essay that was set for the weekend. Harry was eternally grateful that he hadn't thrown out his proofread and highly re-edited rough draft. Otherwise, it would had been safer for him to just drop potions while he still had his skin on him.

Snape was the only professor who would set homework in the first class of the term. After dinner the previous night, those who hadn't finished it stayed up until they did. The Slytherin Head of House was not in a mood to be trifled with. He looked more peeved then when in Harry's first year the House Cup went from Slytherin's win to Gryffindor's. All it took was a few words and a wave of the Headmaster's hand. The same wrath illustrated upon his face when the opposition is given an unfair advantage was the same look he held today.

"Mr. Potter." Snape's glare never looked as irritated as it did now. The dark robed figure continued sarcastically, "what a surprise." Harry was careful not to make eye contact. His father was a very skilled Legilimens despite Harry's own self-developed Occlumency shields. If he were given the time and opportunity, the greasy haired man would surely find a crack in the wall if only merely tripping on it. Too many things would go wrong then with his secret in the wrong hands.

Stopping in front of Harry's table Snape sneered, "What are you doing in my classroom?"

"I'm here to learn potions, sir," he answered with a sturdy and respectful tone.

"You want to become an Auror and their requirements demand a NEWT in Potions. Perhaps that would not be so terrible. The aptitude of the Auror Division would be fitting for one of your diminutive mental capacity and they would likely get you killed in a reasonably short amount of time, relieving the rest of us of your presence." Professor Snape smirked gleefully at the thought.

_At least I'd have died making my father happy_, Harry thought sardonically. "Professor, I have both the summer paper and the one that is due today. I've only missed one day and Professor McGonagall excused me due to events out of my control."

"Were they?" The glee left quickly as Snape realized that his remarks were not provoking Harry to anger. For that matter, they weren't inciting much of any emotion at all. "You have proven time and time again, that your potion-making skills are abysmal and that you are a hazard not only to yourself, but also to your peers. Only by receiving an O on their OWL Potion Exam were these students admitted into this class. As holy and divine as the wizarding populace holds you, Potter, you are not, in fact, above the rules."

Harry frowned. He had received an O grade just like everyone else in the room. He was going to give Snape a piece of his mind. Harry decided that Snape was just always going to assume the worse when it came to him. If he learned the offspring he had it would only be worse. There's nothing worse than feeling unwanted by your parents. They would be obliged to not to kick you out and the resentment would build. The Potions Master hadn't finished. "Take your things. I don't want to see you in these dungeons again or you will suffer the consequences."

Luckily, Professor Snape couldn't, wouldn't be his father. The paper lied, he was just kicked out. It was futile the way that he thought this. Still feeling torn inside, he mumbled, "I wish you knew. How it would torment you inside." _It torments me. I wish to believe, but I wish both my parents were truly resting in peace._

"What was that Potter?" Not knowing what Harry was referring to, his curiosity burned to find out. Unfortunately, Snape would have to be patient, as Harry wasn't giving anything else up. It most likely was not anything important anyway.

"Nothing. I'm leaving." Harry cast a worried look in Snape's direction. The man spied on Lord Voldemort and his Death Eater followers. It was very likely he picked up every word that Harry had said due to the skills he garnered while collecting information for the Order of the Phoenix. The Order was an organization led by Albus Dumbledore to fight against the Dark Lord. Too tormented to protest, Harry repacked his bag and stalked out of the room. _It was for the best. Hadn't I wanted to study it on my own in the first place, anyway? I knew this wouldn't work._

The halls were deserted and it was only then that he remembered that no one was to walk the corridors without a faculty member. Kicking the ground, he decided he didn't want to speak with Ron while he was this upset. He would go visit Madame Pomfrey and see if he could begin learning about healing earlier than originally planned.

Back in the classroom, Malfoy had enjoyed watching Harry get berated and then kicked out. "What a moron," he whispered to Blaise Zambini. Draco Malfoy laughed in a svelte manner and Blaise rolled his eyes and focused on the lesson. A few desks over, Hermione was being extra careful to copy accurate notes. She knew that Harry would want to use them when he studied Potions on his own time.

At the end of class, Hermione put away her self inking pen and turned in their essays. She had almost escaped for lunch, when a velvety voice halted her in her tracks. "I did not ask for three essays, Ms. Granger."

Turning back around, the Gryffindor prefect tried not to sound too indignant. "Harry left the two he wrote on his desk. He won't want them, so you can take them and do as you wish." With that she made a speedy exit to the group waiting outside with Filch to lead them back up to the Great Hall for lunch.

Malfoy had hung back and caught the brief words exchanged. "Hah, I'm sure Weasel could have used that for toilet paper. The sad thing is that would have been better used that way rather than for whatever deplorable scribbles the Golden Boy might have written."

Irritated at everyone and not just at the Gryffindors, Snape prompted the younger Slytherin to get to the point. "What do you want, Draco?"

"I was hoping you'd address an inquiry of mine, Professor. If I added gnat wings to the Numbing Potion if it would make the skin itch rather than become numb?" The boy gave an innocent look. The Professor wasn't fooled.

"You'd have to add a catalyst to the gnat wings, otherwise the concoction would have decayed to form a thick and gritty version of the Numbing Potion well before an itch like reaction would be noticeable to the subject." Snape held back a sigh and led Draco to the classroom door.

"A catalyst," Draco asked to reconfirm. "Well, that makes sense."

* * *

During September security had been heightened to an extreme measure and full searches had been conducted throughout the entire castle and the surrounding grounds. Many parents had wanted to bring their children home if only for a few weeks until the school was deemed safe again. The Ministry of Magic issued a directive that superseded their wishes and forced all of the students to remain at Hogwarts while the investigation was underway.

Harry had been curious to how the entire student population got wind of the bombing at first. It hadn't taken him long to realize that his Potions Professor had reported the memory of the incident to the Headmaster. From there security had been provided and thusly questioned about by the Ministry. The boarding school environment was conductive for a healthy rumor mill. It wasn't long before there were speculations and theories about the perpetrator and motives behind the attack.

With the British Wizarding government officially declaring Lord Voldemort's return it was naturally assumed that the terrorism was of his doing. However, it was clear to many that with Voldemort's imprimatur of pureblood lineage and traditions that he'd be the last one to use such unwizardly methods.

All the more baffling was that the Ravenclaw that the bomb had been strapped to was a documented pureblood back eight generations and probably more generations, undocumented. Caedes Ciardulli was an unobtrusive student, average and healthy to all appearances. He enjoyed History and excelled in Charms. His self-inflicted death was a shock none of his friends or faculty could have foreseen. Harry had never crossed paths Caedes before the incident and now he was dead. It was quite disturbing.

Mr. Trenton had been expelled the very night of the attack for drug use and possession. Once rumor got round that he was the one that had convinced Caedes to die, Hermione went with Ron and returned later with a photo. One look and Harry knew that it was the one and they brought it before the Headmaster. The next day a report was sent by the Aurors with news that the Trenton's' house was deserted, but they were looking into possible leads.

Now it was October and the leaves had just started to turn. It was raining every other day. Everyone would have gone stir-crazy had the extra security measures not been lifted the week before. Students were more apt to report suspicious activity and items, but otherwise the atmosphere slowly returned to normal.

As obscure muggle technology and weaponry were to the wizarding community, wizards and witches were even more ignorant of the recent progress made in muggle warfare. The last serious war effort they had in conjunction with muggles was during World War II and a handful of minor law enforcement instances in which cooperation were needed. Guns and bombs were known and even eagerly shared between those less knowing. Methods of modern terrorism that every muggle and muggleborn took as a common form of violence in most recent struggles were new. There suddenly became a flurry of book and newspaper exchanges in which the student population read about various acts of terrorism.

The best advice came from Hermione, "I'm sure it was meant to be a terrorist attack. Suicide bombings usually are and attacks of this type mostly take place in locations with lots of people and are meant to negatively surprise and shock. Terrorists want to disrupt our daily lives. The best thing to do then is to continue to live our lives, but be alert and aware of our surroundings as well." Harry noted idly that Professor Snape was the best at it. His daily life included hating Harry and he continued to do so. _I'd be a terrorist if I told him that Snape the secret during dinner wouldn't I?_

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

**Next chapter:** Harry studies Potions on his own, mediwizardry lesson, and semi-minor character death. There are more run-ins with Severus Snape.

**Shadowed Rains** asked about my title. I wanted a unique title and my sleep deprived mind got stuck playing with a new/knew pun. I'm sorry you must suffer through the pun within the chapter titles as well.

For **Duj**, I had it planned that the explanation to it would be put in later in the story. For you I'll tell you that Harry is good at Occlumency, but not Legilimency. He willing let Voldy's visions in, but he's not good at Legilimency and therefore can't tell what visions/memories are real. He took the lessons with Snape during 5th year to enhance his Legilimency skills. At least that's how it is in this AU. Does that make sense? **Everyone else**, thank you for reviewing!

I never imagined I'd get 60 reviews for 3 chapters. I hope you liked this chapter, because I didn't. Is it a little boring? Well, the reviews with writing suggestions have helped a lot. Let me know if there are mistakes. I don't see them now, but I will later. Thanx, IJedi

9/6/2008 Proofread and minor corrections made.


	5. New Studies

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. If I did my apartment would have furniture. Please don't sue the poor college art student!

**AN:** Wow, It's been a whole school year since I've last updated. I'm back. Thanx to every reviewer. I would not have returned if not for you. We even broke 100 in reviews. In the last chapter I wrote that there would be a semi-major character death. Unfortunately, I don't remember who or what that was. Moving on…

* * *

**CHAPTER 5: New Studies**

The next month passed with everyone on edge expecting another attack. As nothing happened it became easier for the residents of Hogwarts to settle back into their normal school routine.

Hermione and Ron worked with Harry in potions during their free periods on Tuesday afternoon, Thursday after lunch, and Friday afternoon. They worked on what had been studied in class, but they also felt a lot of freedom to look into whatever potion related topic struck their interest.

During 6th year potions on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings, Harry worked in the Infirmary with Madame Pomfrey. She had never had a student work with her before. Every morning that Harry came in she was always greeted him warmly.

It was the first Monday of November and Harry was shelving the new batch of supplies that had been brought in. Some of the items were from magical medical suppliers and other from muggle sources, and all of the potions were from Professor Snape.

"No wonder they taste so horrible," exclaimed Harry as he made a face thinking about the various healing potions he had taken over the years.

The nurse laughed, but quickly corrected him. "No, Harry. I know you won't believe me, but Severus' potions taste better than the standard hospital issue." Harry had a doubtful look on his face. He looked into the opened box and recognized potions for minor injures.

Madame Pomfrey checked the package list. "There should be 12 small Pepper-Up bottles and one large jar. They go on the shelf next to the Fever Reducer."

Harry looked confused. "You don't organize them by alphabetical order?"

"If something happened and the bottle broke or leaked the ingredients could have a negative reaction to their neighbor. We shelve them so that the chances of that would be reduced." The nurse spoke while Harry loaded the Pepper-Up into the cupboard. "Severus uses unbreakable glass just in case and everything is warded as well.

"It is very unlikely that any of these will be accidentally mixed in storage. What you will need to be extra attentive for is in your patients. Always check to see if they are already taking medicine because mixing it with other medications can lead to deadly complications."

Harry listened intently and they had moved on to discussing the potions that Harry did not know about while they finished putting everything away. They were just finishing when they heard a lot of noise echoing through the corridor leading up to the Infirmary.

Both the Hogwarts school nurse and Harry moved closer to the Infirmary's doors. When they burst open the noise they heard approaching reached its height in wails and general hysterics. Professor Snape with accompanying billowing cloak was levitating a 5th year Slytherin girl. She had had Petrificus Totalis cast upon her and was wrapped in a blanket. Behind them were Pansy Parkinson and another 5th year Slytherin girl that Harry didn't know. Harry couldn't see why the two girls were so distraught.

"She wouldn't stop, we tried to get her to stop, but Eliza wouldn't stop," wailed Pansy. Professor Snape scowled and lowered his student onto the closest hospital bed. Madame Pomfrey was already there pulling the blanket away from the petrified girl. The other two Slytherin girls started crying harder.

Eliza was scratched from head to toe. Her fingernails were covered in her own blood. She had been scratching and her nails had torn many scratches and lacerations into the skin of her arms, legs and scalp. Harry watched carefully as Madame Pomfrey quickly spelled a diagnostic charm. "Severus, is she still inflicted?"

"Yes," the Potions Master answered. "Eliza has never shown destructive compulsive behavior before. I've reason to believe it was a potion." Snape grimaced as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, "Possibly a variant on the common Numbing Potion."

"Then a normal anti-itch remedy would be ineffective?" The nurse looked as concerned for the Slytherin as she did for any student from the other houses. Harry had always been of the mind that the most well rounded personality had an equal number of traits from all four houses. Following Madame Pomfrey's example, Harry ignored the history he had against Slytherin and turned toward Eliza's companions while the adults worked quickly to find a cure for the girl.

Harry went to the linen closet that was always kept stocked with fresh sheets and blankets by the house elves. He pulled out two warm blankets and gently placed them around Pansy and the younger girl. He led them to some hospital beds not too far away, but far enough not to be underfoot. "She'll be alright. Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape are taking care of her. Eliza is lucky to have as good housemates as you."

The girls really weren't listening to Harry as he sat them down. Pulling out his wand he whispered a silencing charm around the two hospital beds using the rods that hold the curtain dividers between the beds as the anchoring points for the walls where the sound would not pass through. He continued to comfort them with his words and soon the girls were only sniffling and trying to compose themselves.

Madame Pomfrey sighed in relief when the silencing charm when up and she felt like she could think a lot better. Professor Snape looked up and noticed Harry's presence for the first time. "Potter," he spat.

The nurse frowned, "Albus assured me that he didn't have class this period. Harry has been quite a help with the potions and he seems to be taking care of his classmates quite well."

She started cleaning the patient's wounds and then closing them up with a wave of her wand. "Now if you don't mind, the sooner you brew up the counter-potion the better. Keeping a person trapped in an unresponsive body that itches like crazy will torture that person just as well as the Cruciatus Curse, only slower. Off with you." With that she shooed Snape down to his dungeons.

After the Potions Master left, Harry joined Madame Pomfrey at Eliza's bedside. "I had Dobby bring them hot chocolate and after that they fell asleep." He looked down at the torn arm of Eliza. "Can I help?" Madame Pomfrey smiled and showed him how she was cleaning and healing the scratches. After supervising him do it a few times, she set Harry on healing Eliza's other arm.

* * *

Severus Snape didn't have time to track down Draco Malfoy. The Professor seethed as he set up the cauldron and prepared the base ingredients for the potion. His morning classes had been cancelled due to this disruption including the 6th year potions class that Harry had dropped.

It was a while ago, but Snape remembered when Draco had asked him the potions question after class. Now it was entirely obvious that Draco had found the catalyst needed to create the painful itching he wanted. Stirring ingredients in, Snape wondered who Draco's true target would be and when. He could only have been testing it on his housemate.

It was most likely going to be aimed at Potter. Luckily, Potter was in the infirmary with Madame Pomfrey who knew how to run a tight ship and keep the students from getting into trouble. She would recognize the danger and keep Harry with her until she knew he would be safe.

Professor Snape carefully put the last of the ingredients into the potion. While this incident hadn't been as alarming as the suicide bombing at the beginning of the year it was likely to create just as much alarm among the Hogwarts population as before. Snape cursed Headmaster Dumbledore's frequent absences. He would have to speak to Deputy Headmistress Professor McGonagall about it instead.

They just couldn't afford spending all of the Hogwarts and Order of the Phoenix's resources just trying to keep order at the school. Especially since there hadn't been a Death Eater meeting since the Battle at the Ministry of Magic last school year. Voldemort's location and plans were unknown.

When the potion was done, Snape expertly bottled a half dozen individual doses and the rest into a larger jar. He carried them up to the Infirmary.

* * *

Harry was not in the infirmary when the Potions Master returned. They needed to remove the Petrificus Totalis spell from Eliza so she could swallow the remedy. After sitting her up and strapping her to the bed, Madame Pomfrey cast Finite Incantatum on the girl and Eliza started withering in agony. She opened her mouth to cry out something, but Professor Snape took this opportunity to pour a dose of the potion he had made down her throat.

Ten minutes later the last of the itching had subsided and Eliza had fallen asleep. Pansy and the other Slytherin girl had been watching the proceedings remaining quietly composed. The usual cold Slytherin mask on their faces broke into a look of relief once they saw that their housemate would be okay. Professor Snape escorted them back to the dorms. Then he went to find Draco Malfoy or Harry Potter before anything else happened.

* * *

Professor Snape slipped into the library for a quick peek to see if Draco was there. McGonagall had given the go ahead for Draco's suspension, but one can't suspend someone who isn't there.

Personally, Snape would have preferred to expel the Malfoy heir, but they didn't have enough proof of his involvement in the previous suicide bombing or in the more recent incident with Eliza. Professor McGonagall had agreed that it would probably look better for their resident spy if he had managed to keep Draco from being expelled and only sentenced a suspension until next term.

Most of the students studied with their friends at the tables in the front of the library. The few that wished to work alone and undisturbed usually holed themselves up at a table in the back of the library. The dusty old tomes muffled the sounds of the noisy students up front.

When Severus had been a student he had enjoyed doing his work at the table in the very back corner next to a large gothic window looking out over the grounds. If Draco was in here, he'd likely to be near there.

Halfway down the many aisles he spotted a table covered with books. Taped to the side in Ron Weasley's nearly unreadable scrawl was a parchment that said, "Hermione Granger's Table - Reserved at all times, do not disturb." He recalled that a similar sign had been taped to a "Harry's" hospital bed in the middle of the Infirmary.

Continuing on he was surprised to see the table in the back corner occupied by one Harry Potter. The teenager was pouring over several texts. Most of which appeared to be about Transfiguration, but there were a few that were about healing. Harry had his glasses off and his nose was really close to the paper.

"Potter," he looked down his own hooked nose at the 6th year. "What are you doing?"

The boy flinched and sat up straight. He grabbed up his glasses and put them on. Harry then squinted up at the Potions Professor. After a second of that he took them off, pointed his wand at them and cast a silent spell. Then he put them back on.

"Transfiguration essay, sir," he answered looking into the Professor's eyes. Could he do it, possibly? He'd been practicing for the longest time. Harry was of course thinking about trying Legilimency. The thing was that of all the people that he could have attempted to cast Legilimens on, he felt that it was only right to try on the two who had already cast it upon him.

Professor Snape eyed him suspiciously. "Madame Pomfrey may have taken a liking to you, but it doesn't mean you're above the rules. You're just like your father." Onyx eyes glowered in remembrance. "Many people were taken in by his false charm and he strutted around the castle like he owned it."

This had been said to Harry before and back then it had made him angry that Snape had been talking about something he knew little about. Sure, James Potter might have strutted, but James Potter wasn't his father. Back then Harry had so much hope. Now the words struck Harry as extremely funny and sadly it was true to an extent.

Harry tried not to break into one of his ridiculously goofy grins at the thought of Professor's characteristic prowl turning into a strut as he roamed the halls of Hogwarts. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he nearly sniggered, but ducked his head as if to go back to his transfiguration essay.

Feeling as if he satisfied his taunting Potter quota for the moment, the Slytherin Head of House addressed the more immediate concern at the moment. "Knowing you that thick head of yours, I wouldn't be surprised if you've already compromised the safety of yourself and your friends."

Harry had just picked up his quill only to drop it again. "What do you mean?" He looked clearly through his glasses, which he had fixed moments earlier to hold just plain glass with no prescription.

"I highly doubt that Eliza was the intended final target for the potion she was given. While mild and easily curable, it can be just as destructive and deadly as a dark arts curse."

Harry expression had darkened and he asked softly, "What can I do?"

"Watch your food at all times, don't leave it unattended. Don't accept candy from strangers, you know the drill." Professor Snape pulled out an individual dose of the remedy from his robes and gave it to Harry. "If you should happen to consume the potion, in some form or another, and start to uncontrollably itch, drink all of this and go see Poppy right away."

Feeling as if he had almost been kind to Potter he added, "Hopefully, your diminutive mind was able to comprehend that. It'll be a miracle the day you're able to see past your bloated ego."

Harry had been just about to thank the Professor. He thought the last part was really uncalled for. Instead he looked straight into his father's eyes and silently cast _Legilimens_. Fuming, his anger empowered his magical energies. He was surprised when he broke through Snape's Occulmency walls. It was only a brief second before Snape pushed Harry back out.

Grabbing his essay and his bag, Harry ran out of the library much to the consternation of the Librarian, Madame Pince. By the time Professor Snape was on his feet again Harry was gone.

Feeling a little sick, the Potions Master sat down in Harry's vacated seat. Harry had seen part of his memory of the day he and Lily Evans split up. Not even had Lord Voldemort been able to access the memories of his relationship with Lily.

Madame Pince made her way over. "I'm glad you got Harry to leave. He's trying hard not to get behind in his regular studies with his extra lessons. He's only left for classes and curfew in the last two days." The librarian started gathering up the books Harry had left in his haste to leave. "I would have dragged him out if he hadn't erected such strong wards in this corner. They were impenetrable. I thought they might have been some kind of kinship or shared blood wards, but you were able to break them down, so they must have been something else."

Professor Snape returned to his office and asked the Bloody Baron to have the ghosts search the castle for Draco Malfoy. He was found in Moaning Myrtle's restroom. Leaving the matter of the suspension to Professor McGonagall, the Potions Master returned to his quarters.

* * *

The sky was filled with orange and purple clouds as the sun slowly made it's way below the horizon. After Hagrid had thanked Harry for assisting him with a wounded falcon, the young Gryffindor made his way back up to the castle. He tried to pay attention to his surroundings, walking quietly in lengthy strides to minimize the noise he was making and listening hard for any misplaced sounds. It was difficult because his scar was burning.

Headmaster Dumbledore was just coming up to the main entrance. It was nearly dark. Up ahead of him he could see a silhouette of a black haired man, stalking quietly up to the castle with his cloak billowing behind him. "Severus," he called out to the man, thinking it was his Potions Master.

Harry turned around expecting to see the Headmaster and Snape behind him. Looking puzzled, Harry wondered if he was crazy for thinking that the Headmaster might have thought that he was Professor Snape.

Upon seeing that it was actually Harry, the Headmaster blamed the confusion on the lack of light in the area. Harry was really much too short to be possibly mistaken as the Professor. Severus Snape's hair was longer and had a distinct sheen even in the night. It would be a funny story to torment Severus with one day. The headmaster pushed it and his embarrassment out of his mind.

"Ah, Harry. How have you been, my boy?" Dumbledore and Harry walked inside. There was a moment of silence as they crossed the threshold of the entranceway and entered the warm castle. The torches flickered on the walls and children's voices and laughter could be heard coming from Great Hall, which was nearby.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "I really need to be getting back to the Tower, Professor."

"Alright then Harry. If you need anything, you can come to me anytime."

Harry mumbled a goodbye and started up the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower. Headmaster Dumbledore watched his ascent for a while until Professor McGonagall drew his attention away.

* * *

Minor corrections made: January 9, 2010


	6. Knew Occlumency

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money off of this story. Thank you J.K. Rowling for creating the Harry Potter Universe and allowing us fanfiction authors and readers to play with your creation.

**AN:** I wanted to get this posted during winter break, but got stuck on what should be a rather easy segment. I have a rule not to post unless I have over 2000 words. At this rate I might have grey hairs when I finish.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6: Knew Occlumency**

"You're finished?" Hermione looked up from her book as Harry came in to the Gryffindor common room. Harry carefully scanned his surroundings. Ron was playing a game of Chess with a 7th year and he gave Harry a vague wave.

Harry waved back and flopped down into one of the chairs next to Hermione. "Yea, here it is." He dug around in his school bag and pulled out a roll of parchment. He handed it to Hermione.

Hermione marked her place in her book and took the offered roll. Unrolling it she started proofreading pausing only periodically to scratch in a correction with her quill. When she was done she put it on a table and held it down with paperweights to keep it from rolling up on itself.

"That was a good essay, Harry. If you're lucky, Professor Flitwick will only drop your grade by ten percent." Her brow furrowed, "You shouldn't have to be deducted in the first place. If you got your homework done on time, before it is due, than you wouldn't have to hole yourself in the library working non-stop until it is completed."

"I know," Harry sighed. "You could have told me about the side effects of the spell you gave me though. I wasn't disturbed, but I also couldn't leave unless it was for something I had to do like classes. Afterwards I'd feel a strong compulsion to return to the warded area."

Hermione nodded, her bushy hair following the movement. "Yes, that was precisely what it was meant to do. I modified a charm I found in a parental book. It was originally meant for toddlers. The child would be safely contained to a certain area and if it were potty trained it would be allowed to leave the area to do that, but strongly compelled to return to the warded area when it was done. I don't think it was used much because most wizarding parents prefer to leave their children in the care of their family's house elves when they're too occupied to see to the kids themselves."

Harry didn't seem that interested in the explanation, but indicated that he had been listening with a nod of his head. Hermione returned to her reading. Ron had already smashed his 7th year opponent and was now teaching a curious 2nd year how to play. Harry smiled.

* * *

Headmaster Dumbledore looked out the window. The school grounds were now covered with the first snow of winter. Everything looked peaceful and serene. It was a soothing contrast to the Potions Master that had just left his office. 

Professor Snape was not the easiest person to work with on the faculty, but he usually wasn't as resistant to the Headmaster's requests. The man had looked ready to fall apart and probably would have had his mentor pried any farther into the issue.

He had only asked that Severus to once again instruct Harry Potter in the art of Occulmency. The stubborn man was immediately incensed, but would not directly say what was the problem.

He refused at first, but Dumbledore had managed to talk him into it for at least winter break. All he had to say was that Harry knew the Prophecy, and then implied that the Boy-Who-Lived could possibly figure out that Severus had eavesdropped on part of it and reported it to Lord Voldemort.

After agreeing, the frustrated dark haired man stormed out of the Headmaster's office. Something crucial had to have happened last year for both of the boys to refuse the lessons. Unfortunately, Harry and Severus were both being very stubborn and tight-lipped about it. Whatever it was, the Potions Professor agreed to teach and since Harry was a student, he really didn't have much say in the matter.

Headmaster Dumbledore sighed and returned to the regular everyday duties that come with running a school.

* * *

The students were relieved when the term ended. Harry had done average in most of his classes. He had mixed feelings about the holiday break. It had been a rough term, but this winter he was to resume the farce that was Occulmency lessons with the greasy git. 

The Headmaster had sent Harry an owl practically ordering him to resume the lessons. Since it was written on parchment Harry did not have the opportunity to argue his way out of it. He did find great pleasure in ripping the letter to pieces though.

Two days later it was the last class day before the students made their way home for winter break. The frosty morning found Hermione alerting her partners in crime to the Daily Prophet. There had been very little reported in the Wizarding paper about the suicide bombing as the Auror investigation had made little progress.

This morning there was only a small article that hardly looked related. It was less than a hundred words and Hermione read it aloud for her friends.

"STIRLING — Human remains have been discovered on the bank of the River Forth, said the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement.

The remains were found in a shallow grave off Drawdy Road near a muggle River Forth boat launching area, said an auror's news release.

The male body was buried with the tattered remnants of robes and appears to have been in the area for about two months. Information on whether aurors think foul play is involved is not yet available and will be released after the remains have gone under autopsy at St. Mungos."

That weekend Harry gave Ron and Hermione their Christmas presents early. They had packed the day before and now they spent the last of their time together in front of the Gryffindor fireplace exchanging gifts and laughter. That afternoon Harry stood outside bundled up against the cold waving goodbye to the carriages that bore his friends away.

Harry spent the rest of the weekend and the beginning of the week walking the grounds with Hedwig, his owl, visiting Hagrid in his hut, visiting Dobby in the kitchens, and playing several fierce rounds of hangman with a Ravenclaw first year that was also staying for the winter break.

* * *

Wednesday afternoon was bright and sunny, but very frosty. It was after lunch and Harry's first Occulmency lesson was scheduled at 1pm. Even though Harry was layered up to keep warm the air seemed to get colder the farther into the dungeons he walked. 

He was starting to have second thoughts about it. He passed the open Potions classroom door wondering briefly what would happen if he just turned around and pretended he had forgot the appointment. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as Professor Snape's voice cut through the chill air.

"Potter. You're on time for once." The comment was surprisingly neutral and Harry watched as Snape secured the classroom with his wand and strode down the hallway to his office. "Inside," the Potions Master ordered. When Harry scurried in he couldn't help but wonder what disaster would befall him this time.

Professor Snape reached his desk and spun around sharply. Harry expected the Potions Master to address the Worst Memory incident of last year. "Since our previous attempt to teach that miniscule little brain of yours the art of Occulmency was a complete failure I ask you now," Snape paused and looked pointedly at the short 6th year. "What do you not understand about clearing your mind and blocking my entrance into your mind?" The words came out strong and forceful, the older man nearly spitting as he spoke.

Harry continued to avoid the Professor's gaze and did not speak. It was better than the truth as he had for many years kept to himself the fact that he was extremely proficient in Occulmency. Most Occulmens put up a mental shield around the entirety of their mind, but Harry had his farther in. The shield itself was disguised with random memories and the area of his mind outside the shield was filled with diversion memories. These were very real memories of Harry's, but they were not those that his life depended on their secrecy. A lot of them were from his time at the Dursley's as it wouldn't be that hard to dig up that information elsewhere. There were even memories he was strongly attached emotionally to or extremely embarrassed in as to trick the viewer into thinking that all of Harry's memories were out for display. Harry crossed his arms.

The problem was that he still needed to develop his skill in Legilimency. He could cast it and enter another's mind, but he could not accurately identify false memories from the real ones. The main reason they started these lessons was as a concern from Dumbledore. The old Headmaster did not want the visions that Harry received from Voldemort to allow access to Harry's own memories. It was also hoped to stop the visions all together. Harry found that Occulmency could not block the link connected through the curse scar, but that Voldemort had absolutely no access to Harry anyway. His best guess was that when the Dark Lord tried to kill him as a baby that part of the Dark Lord transferred and created such a connection. Harry couldn't help but be disturbed at such a conclusion.

"Well?" Professor Snape snarled. "I certainly don't have all day. If you feel you have a complete understanding, then perhaps we should try it out." He drew his wand and held it loosely in Harry's direction. "Perhaps you'd like to sit down?"

Harry uncrossed his arms and looked defiant. "No, sir. I think I'd like very much to stand."

"Very well," was the curt reply. "Three, two, one… Legilimens!" The spell shot out of his wand and Harry instinctively closed his eyes while willing his body not to dodge it.

A few seconds passed and Harry wondered if anything had happened. He thought idly of 2nd year when he and Ron were not able to get onto Platform 9 ¾. He didn't know what made him think of that. A moment later he realized that his father was showing his true skill and was not being obvious in his intrusion.

Harry slowly opened his eyes and clenched his teeth to focus. Snape was standing just how he had been before, like an overgrown bat. The only difference was that his eyes were slightly gazed over. Behind the shield, Harry's Slytherin side wondered what he could make of the situation, and his snarky side decided to open his mouth.

"Are you sure you cast that right? Nothing is happening." Harry snapped. He watched carefully as Snape scowled and his eyes focused.

"Believe me, Potter," he hissed, "It worked and you've done nothing to protect yourself." He flicked his wand and Harry barely felt Snape leave his mind. "Pathetic. If you're not going to even attempt to learn, then I feel that my obligation to teach you is void. Please go tell the Headmaster that as the arrogant, bigheaded dunderhead you are, that you have determined that you do not need my expertise in this field." He ordered and sat down at his desk. "Your father was the same, it comes as no surprise to me. Leave."

Harry sputtered a bit. This wasn't exactly what he had in mind, but it was a good opportunity to stop having to go to these farces of a lesson. Still, he couldn't let Snape get away with talking bad about his family even though James Potter was not his real father, but one who would have still claimed him as his own had he lived.

"Yes, so I am just like my father. So what! No one listens to me anyway, in fact, they don't even bother asking. They just go, 'Legilimens! Ha, I know how lame you are.' No, wait, you're wrong, I'm not like my father. I don't go around bullying people smaller then they are!" At this point Harry's scar was bright red and he was breathing heavily. His next words he shouted out with all the feelings of a frustrated teenager. "I'm glad I never got to know him!"

For once Professor Snape felt like he was missing something. He had been sure that Potter was incredibly proud of his imbecilic father. The Potions Master felt a headache coming on and pinched the bridge of his nose. He would look into the mystery later.

"Potter, why are you still wasting the air in this room? Occulmency lessons are cancelled. Or is your mind too addled from your godfather's demise to properly understand? GET OUT!

"Listen here," Harry, still red-faced from before, took a deep breath of air. "I ONLY TOOK YOUR STUPID OCCULMENCY LESSONS TO LEARN LEGILIMENCY!" The Gryffindor spun around and slammed the office door behind him as he ran out.

Harry ran down the halls, through the Entrance Hall and out to the snow covered lakeside. _Why does he have to be so stupid? _Harry asked himself. He groaned, _Argh, why did I tell him that I already knew Occulmency? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Forget it, it's over and done with, just relax and move on._ Harry sat in the cold staring out at the lapping waves on the lake. His temper cooled and for the moment, he wished he never had to go back.

* * *

When Harry slammed the door and ran out Snape jumped up, out of his chair in rage. After burning a hole in the wood of the door with his eyes for a few seconds he fell back into his chair and the rage left his body. The whole affair did seem a bit childish. He didn't look forward to getting admonished by the Headmaster again any time soon. The boy lying wouldn't help the situation and Snape felt that he'd be seeing the Gryffindor again way too soon for his liking.

* * *

**AN**: Thanx for all of the excellent reviews! If I didn't get them I think I would have stopped writing all together, but I still am even if it's incredibly slow in updating. 


	7. New Revelation

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since the age of 10. During his sixth year unique methods are used to try to kill Harry and in the process his paternal secret eventually comes to light.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. I do not make any money off of this story. Thank you J.K. Rowling for creating the Harry Potter Universe and allowing us fanfiction authors and readers to play with your creation.

**AN:** The revelation you're all waiting for isn't in this chapter, but it will come.

**CHAPTER 7: New Revelation**

It wasn't until the stars started showing themselves in the frosty evening sky that Harry made his way back to the castle. He skipped the inviting warmth of the Great Hall and continued on to the kitchens where he could visit Dobby and get his dinner without encountering Professor Snape.

He was just turning down the stone steps that led underneath the Great Hall when his hearing picked up the telltale sound of a ghost. Most people didn't bother to listen for it, and sometimes it was just too loud to hear it anyway. Harry, however, was supersensitive to his surroundings as the last person he wanted to run into was the Potions Professor.

"Good Evening, Sir Nicholas," Harry greeted politely. The teen paused on the stair while the ghost passed by.

Nearly Headless Nick smiled jovially. "Ah, Harry Potter. I trust you're having a fine evening? I'm heading to the Great Hall, would you care to join me? The Bloody Baron has be right insufferable lately and hasn't been speaking to me lately."

"Er, I'd like to, but I must go take care of something right now." The ghost's cheery attitude changed as if he was trying to do a Moaning Myrtle impression. He looked really disappointed and it made Harry feel bad. "I'm sorry, Nick. Maybe another time."

The Gryffindor ghost straightened up again. "Yes, another time, another time. Have a good night, Harry Potter." Then Nearly-Headless Nick continued up the stairs.

"G'night," Harry mumbled and continued down the stairs. When the ghost was out of what would be a living human's earshot, he grabbed at his hair in mild frustration, "Why do they have to say my _full_ name every time! Can't just be Harry. Have to add the 'Potter' in like it is some bloody magic word or something! 'Potter' isn't even all that great of a name either. Hell, even 'Malfoy' is a better name than 'Potter', even if it does mean 'Bad Faith' like Hermione said." Harry scuffed his shoe angrily at the ground.

When he reached the painting entrance of the kitchen he stopped. With a big sigh he released all the tension and anger from his body. It was childish to be so angry at nothing. It wouldn't be fair to Dobby to mar his visit that way either. Harry reached out and tickled the pear in the painting and entered the kitchens.

Dobby immediately removed himself from the other house elves finishing up the dinner preparations. It smelled wonderful and Harry's stomach growled quietly in complement. "Sir Harry Potter, sir! Dobby is so happy to see you!" The house elf was still dressed ridiculously as ever with way too many knitted hats and four mismatched socks.

"It's great to- Dobby, are those socks on your hands?" On his right hand was a Chudly Cannons themed sock in bright, obscene orange and on his left hand was a pink sock with flowers on it.

Dobby bounced in agreement. "Oh yes, sirs, Harry Potter, sirs. Dobby finds socks make hot pans easiers to hold."

Harry didn't know what to say to that. It was a rather clever idea, however he couldn't imagine it working as well as actual oven mitts. Harry decided that he'd get Dobby mitts for Christmas instead of his usual, but unusual, socks. "Dobby, er, I was wondering if I could have dinner with you down here tonight?"

After calming the overwhelmed elf down, they ate dinner together and Harry could almost forget the horrible lesson he had had earlier that day. The elf had many stories to tell Harry and when it was time to return to the Gryffindor Tower, the boy was sure that he would sleep soundly.

* * *

The next several days Harry spent the majority of his time with Madame Poppy Pomfrey. The nurse did not seem to mind and continued to teach him about Healing. It was Friday of the same week, when Harry entered the hospital wing to find it empty. It was quiet and peaceful. 

He walked to Poppy's office door and knocked. "Come in!" she called cheerily. Madame Pomfrey was sitting at her desk. On the ground next to the desk was a packed traveling case and her Healer's Bag.

"Oh there you are Harry." Pomfrey signed a chart with a flourish and started filing the documents away. "Sleep well?"

Harry stifled a yawn and settled on running his hand through his messy hair instead. "Yes, probably a little too well." He noticed the luggage. "Are you going somewhere, Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes, didn't I tell you I was going to the European Wizards Healer's Conference for coming week?" She picked up her Healer's Bag and set it on the desk. Opening it up, she clucked at the contents.

People always seemed to forget to tell him little things like that. Like at the Yule Ball when his Head of House forgot to tell him the champions were the first ones to dance traditionally. The "great Harry Potter" wasn't all knowing. He shook his head in response. "No, you didn't."

The nurse pulled out several near empty potion bottles and some that were just a bit old. "Oh. I'm sorry Harry. I was going to ask if you would keep an eye on things here while I'm gone."

"Sure." Harry helped Poppy replace the outdated potions with fresh ones from the cupboard.

He handed her a newly made vial of blood replenisher. "Thank you, Harry." She gently packed in the fresh potions and supplies.

She pulled out some parchment and a quill. "I'll write you a note. You aren't allowed to give out prescriptions, but I trust your skill enough to deal with a sprain or a splinter or whatever other trouble you children are likely to get yourself into. Professor Snape is still here, so if someone needs a potion refer to him." Harry rolled his eyes.

The nurse was still finishing the note and didn't see it. "If it's something serious get a professor and have them transport the student to St. Mungos." She put aside the note and grabbed a fresh parchment. "Here are some floo and owl addresses in case of an emergency." The quill made scratching noises as she briskly jotted down the contacts from memory.

She handed the two parchments to Harry. "I don't expect you will need them. Oh, and be sure to fill out a chart for each person no matter how small the incident. We haven't covered all that much in chart notation, so just do the best you can. I can rewrite them when I get back."

This was rather sudden, but Harry couldn't help but feel excited. Still staying in the Infirmary would limit his activities. He'd be bored in no time. "Do I have to be here all the time?"

"Oh dear, no." She grabbed her luggage and carried them out to the Infirmary where there was a large fireplace. "Just come in everyday and take care of your normal duties. If one of the younger years hurt themselves, you'll probably be nearby anyway. The Professors are quite capable with some simple on the spot healing, but they never think to record the incident. So if they take charge, just fill out the medical charts and files. If you could do that, I'd greatly appreciate it."

"I can do that." Considering that the teachers had many more years of experience than Harry, he didn't think they'd be all that willing to let him do any healing at all.

He glanced down at the note and grimaced. He just hoped no one would need a potion because the note said that only Snape could give them out.

"Thank you Harry. You've done so well. I know I can trust you to leave you in charge while I'm gone."

They stopped in front of the large fireplace. Harry realized that she had her traveling cloak on. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes. Oh, I almost forgot. Wait here." The nurse swept into her office and was back a moment later. She thrust a folder into Harry's hands. "I pulled in a favor and managed to get this for you."

He opened the folder. "What is it?" The parchments looked very official.

"It's last year's NEWT test and answer guide for Potions." She smiled. Harry flipped back to the title page, which proudly stated the same. "Well, I must get going if I'm going to make my departure time. Have a good holiday Harry."

Harry closed the folder and tucked it underneath his arm. He'd study it later. "Have a good trip Madame Pomfrey."

She merely smiled threw in the floo powder. The fire turned green. Pulling in her travel case and Healer's bag next to her, she then pronounced clearly, "London International Apparation and Floo Station." In a large, green fiery flash, the school nurse was gone.

Harry surveyed the empty hospital wing with a satisfied eye. He was responsible for all of this. He put the folder down and started putting away Snape's latest potions delivery.

* * *

Professor Snape felt that something was going on with Potter, again. It was a rather usual feeling. Like in the boy's first year when he was investigating the Philosopher's Stone, or in second year with the-, or any year for that matter! The Potions Master scowled. 

He was always recklessly putting himself in danger. Only this time, Snape didn't have an inkling of what that trouble was. For the next few days after their last altercation, Snape attended every meal and roamed the halls, even stepping outside a few times, determined to spy the Gryffindor.

The boy never showed up for meals, which made Snape rather anxious and on edge until Thursday when Minerva mentioned that the boy had been joining Poppy for meals in the Infirmary. He couldn't imagine what might have invited Harry to become friendly with the school nurse, except another Quidditch injury, but his Gryffindor colleague assured him that Harry was not hurt. Snape protested that he wasn't worried and Minerva gave him a knowing look in return.

That night, Snape finished another batch of potions for the Infirmary. He hadn't paid that much attention to it's brewing, but it was perfect as usual. He kept thinking about their failed Occlumency lesson. The way the boy had spoke bothered him. It wasn't normal Potter antagonism. Thinking on this didn't allow Snape to sleep all that well that night.

He woke up early on Friday morning like he normally did and deposited the potions in the infirmary. Poppy reminded him that she was leaving to France for a Healing Conference of some sort or another.

This meant the brat would have to start eating meals in the Great Hall again. Snape planned to speak with the boy and get to the bottom of whatever was running the Boy-Who-Lived amok.

After lunch, in which Potter had not shown up, Snape returned to his Potions lab to get some more brewing done. It was well past dinner when he was finished and started putting up the equipment.

He'd said that he just wanted to learn Legilimency. That would do him no good if he couldn't occlude his mind probably.

Snape suddenly remembered the beginning of the year when he had entered Potter's mind after the bombing. It had felt like he was in his mind, but then he had been knocked into what felt like a solid wall. The wall looked like normal memories, but then the memory of the bombing had disappeared behind it.

As the Potions Master walked back to his rooms he felt like he had a revelation and he didn't like what it meant. Wherever that one memory had disappeared to probably contained other memories as well, really important memories. That would mean all the others floating out in the open were just a rouse to trick any intruders from looking any farther.

The boy did know Occlumency. He just used a different approach then what most occulmens did. Snape stalked down the dungeon corridor planning. Tomorrow, he'd corner Potter and talk to him. Tomorrow.

He had just closed the door to his private quarters behind him when his left arm started to burn. Growling out a few profanities, Snape prepared for a Death Eater meeting and then left the castle. Once clear of the wards, he apparated.

* * *

Chapter posted: July 13, 2007 


	8. Plans They Knew Not

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** Sevitus! Harry knew. He had known since he was 10 that Snape is his real father. Too bad Snape's a git and it's taken him until Harry's 6th year for him to see that Harry's a natural Occlumens.

**Disclaimer:** I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8: Plans They Knew Not**

Harry woke up feeling something was wrong. His scar was burning, his chest felt tight and he had trouble swallowing around the lump in his throat. He stumbled out of his four-poster and to the loo for some water.

The last few days had been rather relaxing, although he really hadn't known what to do with himself. The Hospital Wing was easy to maintain and he didn't have to worry about Snape because he had left the castle.

"That feels better," he said splashing water on his burning forehead. Sometimes he could feel Voldemort's mood, but not right now. Harry was still hung up on the dream he had.

He strained to remember what it was about. He felt like he should remember and was really close to remembering, but it was just out of reach. "Something about Mum and Snape..."

The dark-haired boy dried his face and wandered back to sit on the covers of his bed. "I guess I won't remember that one."

He reached up and touched his lightning bolt scar. It still felt hot.

Laying down Harry did his best to use legilimency on his link with Voldemort. His hidden occlumency shield remained strong. After an hour of quiet focus, the Gryffindor conceded defeat and prepared for the day.

* * *

"You have done well, Severus," the Dark Lord hissed. Severus Snape bowed before his master. His assistant, a man about ten years younger than him, copied the action. 

Three nights ago, Snape and the other Death Eaters had been called to an abandoned muggle warehouse. He had greeted his followers in his normal verbose manner. Then they were left to wait at one end of the warehouse while the Dark Lord called them up one by one into the office at the other end.

He assigned different tasks to some of his followers for an indefinite amount of time. The Potions Master had been assigned to brew many common healing potions and a handful of offensive potions. He was to work only eight hours a day, taking breaks and an hour lunch.

He had just finished his work for the day and Voldemort had come to inspect his progress. "The remainder of the list will be completed by tomorrow evening?"

"No later than midday, my Lord." Snape's assistant was a good potions brewer as well, but not a master. He took care of labeling, cleaning, and preparing a few of the more mundane ingredients. The work went a lot faster that way.

"Ahead of schedule. Excellent," red eyes glowed brightly. "That is all for now, Severus."

Snape bowed before his master again, "Yes, my Lord."

He watched silently as the Dark Lord glided back to his office. The warehouse was large. He had restricted his followers in their use of magic so that no attention would be drawn to the muggle building. Their new headquarters would not be found any time soon.

None of the Death Eaters were allowed to leave. No one felt inclined to ask what would happen if they did.

"Goodnight, sir," the assistant said. He left to join a group of younger Death Eaters socializing in some old chairs near the sleeping area.

Snape swooped over to the area designated as the "kitchen". Pansy Parkinson's father cooked as a hobby. The pug-faced man had been assigned a small army of house elves to prepare the meals for the hundred and twenty resident Death Eaters.

There was a line and they whispered to each other as he approached. "Why does he wear his mask?"

"Inner Circle member. Let him cut to the front."

"What? Why does he get to go to the front? He should wait like the rest of us."

"Shut up, wanker."

"He's waited 13 years for our Lord to return. What do you know of waiting," growled a grizzly wizard.

"Don't mess with the Potions Master. He may seem rather mellow compared to the others, but I've heard he's frightening deadly when he wants to be."

"Who you callin' a wanker, wanker?"

"Shh, quiet you bloody gits! Let the man in."

"After you, sir," one young Death Eater said as he bowed. The green mask made Snape look more like a dark spirit than a man as he nodded in acknowledgement. He stepped to the front of the line. Parkinson handed him a plate of food and Snape retreated to an empty table against the wall.

A wandless spell later and his Death Eater mask was a half mask enabling him the ability to eat his meal and still keep his identity secret. Voldemort didn't want the lesser Death Eaters to be able to give away his Inner Circle should they become captured or turn traitor.

It was also a good way to indicate their higher status among the ranks. The lesser Death Eaters, some more mature than others, remained unmasked. Sharing the same living spaces and working together as they had the last few days brought a sense of camaraderie and even friendship between them.

Snape picked at his mashed potatoes, trying to think of a way to communicate with the Order of the Phoenix. It was a large operation, clearly preplanned, and in preparation for something. The Dark Lord obviously didn't want word to get out.

A graceful, sure-footed masked Death Eater was moving through the bunk beds and cots in the sleeping area. He would speak shortly with other masked Death Eaters before he moved on to the next one. The light glinted coldly off of his silver mask as he searched through the crowds. The man spotted Snape's metallic green mask and walked over.

"Severus," he greeted politely.

"Lucius," Draco's father had been broken out of Azkaban not too long ago. He didn't sound any worse for wear. Snape wondered where Malfoy's snake-headed cane had ended up.

"Our Lord has called for an Inner Circle meeting in an hour." 'Pimp-cane' as one of his 5th year muggleborn Slytherins described it. Lucius walked away. Bellatrix Lestrange's deranged laughter rose above the other conversations. Thankfully the insane woman wasn't a part of the Inner Circle.

Severus sighed. He was running out of time. The battle would come soon.

* * *

The gentle sound of bells tinkled. Albus Dumbledore woke tired, but eager to see the fresh snow on the ground this Wednesday morning. He looked out his window and saw that it was pitch black. The bells tinkled again. 

That wasn't his morning alarm, he realized all at once. The Headmaster slid out of bed and hurried to his fireside. Waving his wand, he allowed the firecall to come through.

The stern face of the new Minister of Magic formed in the flames. "Headmaster Dumbledore." He eyed the vibrant nightgown the old man was wearing. "Sorry for calling you at this time of night."

Dumbledore waved off the concern. "That is alright, Minister. What can I do for you?"

"There's been several attacks by Death Eaters." His face was most grave.

"Where?"

"All over and they're ongoing. They're well coordinated. A few individual residences have been targeted, but by the time we get there, the bastards are gone already. The main targets appear to be the several of the International Apparation and Floo Stations and the Ministry of Magic!"

The Headmaster reeled in shock for a moment. "Are you there now?"

"Yes, we're in lockdown, minus the MLE department. The Aurors are holding them off in the Atrium, but they're not retreating. Most of the Floos are down, but not all of them." The Minister was a proud man, but he knew when to ask for aid when he needed it. "Headmaster, we need your help. Time is of the essence, we mustn't allow He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named get away with this atrocity."

"Allow me fifteen minutes, Minister. I shall gather the Order together and we will be with you shortly."

"Thank you. The Floo password is the same as before." His words were fast and short, but there was a slight air of relief to them. "Bye." The face left the flames as the firecall ended.

Albus waved his wand and instead of his vibrant purple nightgown, he now wore sky blue battle robes. The Headmaster's office was connected to his living quarters and it was from there that he contacted the other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

There weren't that many Professors actually at the castle. Quite a few had gone to visit their families over holiday. Poppy was in France. Albus tried to firecall Severus' rooms, but it appeared that he was still absent. He hoped the Potion Master was alright and not caught up in this mess.

Albus wrote a quick note to Professor Sprout and sent it via Fawkes, his Phoenix, before Flooing directly to the Minister's office. He would find out more about the attacks and then direct the Order accordingly. They were to prepare and wait at a nearby location.

Never before had the Minster been so happy to see the Hogwarts Headmaster.

* * *

Wednesday was an especially slow morning for Harry. He had breakfast in the Great Hall and then he spent a few hours in the library to do one of his assignments, but not really getting much done in the end. Then after an early lunch he decided to go up to the Hospital Wing. 

Harry was sitting on the hospital bed that Ron had labeled as his and dinking around with some bandage wrap. He was practicing on his leg when the Infirmary doors banged open.

A man in Auror's robes entered and behind him floated the body of another Auror. Both of their robes were singed, but the injured Auror had serious burns all over him and he was unconscious. Harry ran over and helped place him on the bed nearest the doors.

"Go get Madame Pomfrey," the Auror ordered. "Hurry, there are many injured."

"She's in France," Harry explained. "You need to get him to St. Mungos. I'll call them."

Harry rushed to the fireplace, threw in the powder, and called for the wizarding hospital. Behind him the Auror cursed.

A frantic looking secretary answered, "St. Mungos, is it a medical emergency?"

"Yes, I have an Auror here with severe burns on half his body. Can I send him through?"

"No," she yelped. "You can't send a burnt man directly into a fire." She turned and spoke to someone on her side of the connection and then turned back. "There is a spell-"

"Yes," Harry said impatiently. "I know it, is that all he needs to go through safely?"

"Yes," the secretary answered.

Harry returned to the burnt man's bedside. He took a deep breath to focus. A moment later, the spell had been cast on the Auror and Harry was bringing him to the Floo.

The other Auror was arguing with the secretary. "There are dead and dying people out there. All I'm asking is that you spare one mediwitch."

"I'm sorry, but we are overloaded. Hogsmeade isn't the only place that has been hit. Surely the Auror corps also have field medics?"

"It's not enough. You've got to send help. Some people are too injured to be moved, let alone portkeyed or flooed!"

"There's nothing I can do. I'm sorry." Her head disappeared. The Auror scowled and hit the mantel hard. Harry floated the injured man through.

They watched the connection cut off. "I need to go back." The Auror stalked back down the wide aisle between the rows of hospital beds.

Harry shifted nervously. He had that ache in his gut, the one that wouldn't leave him alone when he knew he could help somebody. He cleared his throat. "Sir," he was going to regret this. "Let me go with you."

"What?"

"Madame Pomfrey has been teaching me healing. I can help." The man looked skeptical. Harry ran his hand through his hair nervously. Something caught the man's eye and the skepticism lessened. "Just give me a moment to get some supplies together."

The man searched Harry's eyes. "Alright," he finally conceded.

"Er, yea." The man looked like he was actually going take the Gryffindor with him. Harry didn't hesitate any longer and ran into Madame Pomfrey's office.

He grabbed a Healer's bag and loaded it with Snape's potions and other mediwitch supplies. He quickly scoured the rest of the office to see if there was anything he was forgetting.

He opened a few cupboards and then a wardrobe. He grabbed one of the robes inside and threw it over his muggle clothes. He stepped out of the office with his Holly wand in one hand and the magically lightened Healer's bag in the other.

The robes Harry had found identified him as a mediwizard or Healer. It would be helpful on the battlefield as he wouldn't be shot at as much and the injured would be more likely to let a sixteen year old heal them.

The Auror looked impressed. "Not bad, Mr. Potter. Let's get moving." Harry blinked. "Saw your scar," the man clarified as they ran down the cold stone corridor to the Entrance Hall. "Name's Nick, by the way."

Harry paused when they stepped outside. Hogsmeade wasn't that far away. He could clearly see the smoke and flashes of light from battle between wizards. The violence was a stark contrast to the fresh, clean snow that covered the ground.

Nick had walked ahead and was waiting next to a large thestral. "We're evenly matched and no one's budging. Try not to get yourself killed, alright?" Harry nodded and Auror Nick helped him up on the thestral and then climbed up himself. The thestral lifted off and they were on their way.

* * *

Severus Snape threw a long succession of spells towards the makeshift barricade. A female Auror and the Weasley twins had jumped behind as a few AKs flew at them. The barrier had blocked the killing curses, but it would be rather frail against most other spells and hexes. It was little more than a vendor's stand buried under a small snowdrift. The freezing charm he sent them should help it hold out a bit longer. 

Snape dodged a reducto and then swept across the alley. Goyle Senior lumbered behind him. This was the fourth location Snape and his team had been stationed. The first was a successful strike, but the next two had ended when the Dark Lord had finally allowed them to retreat. Now they were in Diagon Alley.

It was almost midday and despite the spew of attacks during the night and the early morning, there were still Christmas shoppers out. They must not have gotten the news, including the Weasley twins. The boys seem capable of holding their own though.

Severus paused to let Goyle catch up. Their main objective was to raid Ollivander's Wand Shop. Some of the attacks were just distractions and others were actually relevant to the Dark Lord's plans. He didn't know which ones were what though.

A fireball hit the roof of the store next to the one they were under. He cast a shield as the shattered wood and snow rained down around them. He cast a sectumsempra in the general direction the fireball came from. It didn't seem to hit anything.

Snape rapid fired a magically conjured knife and then a few stunning spells from his wand through a storefront window when he saw movement. The glass shattered and the noise was intermingled with the screams of the innocent.

Snape darted through the street's shadows closer to the wand shop. A team of six Aurors suddenly appeared out from invisibility cloaks and cloaking spells shooting off rounds of Stupefy, Impedimentia, and Patrificus Totalis. The first two stunning spells bounced off of a quickly invoked blood shield and the rest missed as he ducked into the doorway to the bookstore.

"Death Eater, halt," one of them ordered apparating directly in front of him. Snape looked back. Goyle was on the ground wrestling a burly muggleborn quite a ways down the street. Snape raised his hands as if to surrender. One hand was bleeding from where he had sliced it for the blood shield a moment ago. The Auror smiled pushed his wand under the green Death Eater mask. "Where is the rest of your team?" he asked, cheeks red and his breath clearly visible from the cold winter air.

Snape smiled behind his mask and let go of the breakable flask the Auror had failed to notice in his other hand. It hit the stone step and the area exploded getting all of the Auror team in the process.

Snape apparated a split second before the explosion and reappeared next to Goyle. A silent bludgeoning hex put the muggleborn he was fighting out cold. Snape sent an AK into an empty snow bank in the distance for show. The green light flashed dangerously.

Goyle followed him down to the rendezvous point. They didn't meet any resistance the remainder of the way. The rest of his team should be giving the signal any minute now, once they were in position. It was quiet here, but in the distance they could still hear Crabbe and McNair's teams creating mayhem.

There was a scream and Snape tilted his green mask up to see. The Dark Mark formed in the sky above. He and Goyle burst through the front door of the wand shop as the rest of the team entered through the back. The remainder of Diagon Alley was plagued with battling Death Eaters and Aurors.

Ollivander's was deserted. Snape certainly had made enough noise on his way over, so he had hoped this would be the case. Glad the wandmaker had got away, the Potions Master went about fulfilling the rest of his Master's orders.

* * *

A similar battle was taking place in the smaller locale of Hogsmeade. A Death Eater in a silver mask had made headquarters out of a residential house on the opposite side of town. From there he planned strikes and sent out orders. Their objective was to completely conquer Hogsmeade. 

A Death Eater with a regular white skull shaped mask on sat in front of an enchanted paper with ink and quill. Only certain people were keyed into these papers and they communicated between the fronts. Several lines in blood red appeared upon the page. The Death Eater scribbled back in silver ink confirmation that the message had been received.

"Commander Silver," he called to his superior. "Our forces at the Ministry have ended the direct assault and are now holding them under siege. They suspect that Dumbledore is also inside with the Minister and are asking if any of our posts have confirmation of that. Lord Voldemort returned half an hour ago to oversee the operations there. If things hold up well for the next few hours, he will be coming over here to see how it is going."

"Very well," Lucius Malfoy responded from behind his silver mask. "You may inform our Lord that the Swinebutte District is subdued and we continue to advance. How is the Diagon Alley assault going? When they finish we could use their teams over here."

"Yes, Commander." The communications Death Eater printed in neat letters their status and the inquires he had been asked.

On the other side of town, the Aurors and a few brave civilians in the Hogwarts District were putting up a decent resistance. Spells were thrown back and forth with deadly force.

In The Three Broomsticks, the wounded were brought in. They were laid out on top of the tables and Harry did what he could for each of them. Madame Rosmerta and her other staff helped with everything they could from bringing water and supplies, to feeding and comforting the injured.

It wasn't long before Harry had called Dobby to retrieve potions from the Hospital Wing for him. The elf was going back and forth constantly, though only when it was safe to do so.

Hermione had taught him a search spell for research projects that opened the book to the page he needed. After the first few times, he was using this silently and without much thought with the Healing book he had brought.

The easiest were the broken bones and the simple spells that only needed a potion antidote, like the hex that created boils. One of the Death Eaters they were battling was a incredibly good with the cutting hex. The hex landed different every time and sometimes it was an easy fix and other times it required spellwork on damaged organs.

Very often, he'd finish fixing up an Auror and they would immediately go back out again. They were very dedicated to their teammates.

One man had his leg cut clean off. Harry had been tending to a victim of the Cruciatius Curse, but stopped immediately to keep the new patient from bleeding out. Not everyone survived even if Harry was able to work on them, but the boy wouldn't stop to think about it or he'd fall apart and be useless.

Other times Harry couldn't do anything for the patient, as the Healing they need was too advanced. There had been a case of human transfiguration that was way beyond Harry's abilities. He'd given the man a strong pain potion and an anti-nausea potion before transferring him to St. Mungos by Floo. Floo travel was too dangerous for the most serious patients. People died.

Twice he had been brought someone who had been AK'd. Even trying muggle CPR, he couldn't get the Avada Kedavra victim's heart to start back up. Finite Incantatum was no good either.

It had been three hours since he had last seen Nick and the battle showed no signs of ending. Every skirmish Harry had been in had been relatively short, but both sides refused to give in.

He tried not to think of things as he worked or when he took a quick break. He tried not to think of what would happen if the Death Eaters won and took over Hogsmeade. He really tried not to think about where his father was and what he might be doing.

Harry couldn't help the thoughts that ran through his head. Maybe he should have let the Potions Master know about their relationship. Would things have been any different? Would he have learned Legilimency and been able to see Voldemort's plan before it happened?

Harry didn't know.

He put these thoughts out of his mind and continued to heal the wounded.

* * *

Chapter Posted: July 20, 2007 

AN: I'm rather sick of the stupid Knew/New pun at this point. It makes me want to hit my 19-year-old self upside the head. Can you believe I've started this fic two years ago?


	9. Who Knew Where Snape Was

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since the age of 10. During his sixth year unique methods are used to try to kill Harry and in the process his paternal secret eventually comes to light.

**Disclaimer:** I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

--

**CHAPTER 9: Who Knew Where Snape Was**

"Communications," called Snape, "Inform the others of our success." He marched his team back down the length of Diagon Alley. There was a lot of damage and a few smoking ruins on the snow covered street. Christmas decorations lay in the slush. The festive red and green contrasted harshly with the cold broken bodies the Death Eaters casually stepped over.

The team paused and took up sentry positions as the youngest among them quickly jotted down a string of letters in green ink. "Team Green," the plain masked Death Eater read aloud as he wrote, "reports completion of objectives in the Diagon Alley assault. Rejoining with Copper and Yellow teams. Awaiting orders." A few of his companions snarled at the team name.

"Good," said Snape. The twenty-something boy wasn't a complete dunderhead, he was clear and to the point. He could already see confirmation of the transmission forming on the communications page in copper, yellow and red ink. "Let's get moving." Snape waved his team on and soon they were just outside the Leaky Cauldron's entrance.

Here the destruction was as its worse. Wizard had gone against wizard. The only building that appeared to be untouched was the Wizard Bank, Gringotts. Its gleaming white exterior was marred by a few stray blast marks, but that was all.

The other shops in the immediate vicinity were blackened, collapsed piles of firewood for all intents and purposes. Two-dozen Death Eaters were waiting for them. Some were being directed by an Inner Circle member with a metallic yellow mask to move, organize, and record the deceased and tend to a few injured teammates.

"Ah comrade," announced a Death Eater with a copper colored skull shaped mask. It was McNair. Snape quirked an eyebrow at him, but it was lost behind his own metallic green mask. McNair lowered his voice, "Severus, we got your message. It seems our distraction worked." The older pureblood looked at Snape's team. "Where's Ollivander?"

"The wand maker was not there when we arrived," Snape answered. "He was only a secondary objective, we did find the documents on the other wandmaker and the wands that our Dark Lord requested."

The yellow masked Death Eater stomped over and even under the dark robes it was plain that he was pure bulky muscle. "Snape, McNair," he grunted.

"Crabbe," hissed Snape, "What is it?" The man rolled his shoulders and handed over one of the enchanted parchments. There was a series of passages in silver and red ink, followed by confirmation of all three Death Eaters in charge of communications within Diagon Alley.

Snape shifted his weight from one foot to the other. They had been in this one location for quite a bit of time and the Aurors had always been enterprising people. He scowled, his expression once again wasted by being confined behind his mask. He read the parchment quickly.

"The Dark Lord wants us at the Ministry."

--

Harry's head snapped up as the door to the Three Broomsticks whipped open and bounced against the wall. Three men in Auror robes stepped in. The lead had familiar curly blond hair. It was Nick, the Auror Harry had met in the Hospital Wing several hours ago. They didn't seem injured, so Harry remained in the nook of the booth he had decided take his break at.

There were about ten injured and five dying in their makeshift medical camp, but Harry couldn't do anything more for them. Madame Rosmerta had led him to a quiet corner and given him some water. "Thank you," he murmured. He hadn't realized how much he needed a break until he had sat down. He removed his glasses and put them on the table next to his wand. Looking around he was still amazed his eyesight had improved so much over the last few months.

Nick and his two teammates were talking with Madame Rosmerta and the handful of people who had been helping out. Harry crossed his arms on the table and put his head on them still watching the small meeting. A moment later and the group broke up and immediately went about new tasks. Nick walked purposely over to Harry, his face grim. Harry sighed and sat up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," Nick apologized, "I have some bad news."

Harry's thought immediately turned to Snape. "What is it?"

"The Death Eaters are advancing."

"Advancing?"

"We don't have enough Aurors to hold them off," Nick said. He didn't look at Harry, but at the small stained glass window over the table. "Most of us are at the Ministry."

"What- what about the Order of the Phoenix?" Harry suddenly felt guilt bubble up his stomach. He hadn't even let the Headmaster know where he had gone. Was the Order searching for him? "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"London. We've received word half an hour ago that the Death Eaters left Diagon Alley. That only leaves the Ministry and Hogsmeade as the remaining battlegrounds. Headmaster Dumbledore is with the Minister."

Harry looked down at the wood grain of the table. He knew in his gut that his father wasn't with the Order today. He had been gone from Hogwarts for many days. What if Voldemort had found out that he was a spy? Harry's heart squeezed.

Harry picked up his wand and stood up. "I can fight," he told the Auror. "We need to keep the Death Eaters from taking Hogsmeade."

"No," Nick instructed, "I shouldn't have even allowed you out here in the first place, but as long as you stay as a non-combatant field mediwizard, you'll have some immunity."

"But I have to help," Harry whinged, "You can't just give up!"

"Ho," Nick exclaimed, "we haven't given up. Not by a long shot. Still the Death Eaters are making their way into the Hogwarts District. We've decided to move the injured to Hogwarts, just in case. If things get really bad, we'll have to retreat to Hogwarts entirely, but maybe we'll get reinforcements by then.

"Until then, we need you to continue to help, especially as we move people. Madame Rosmerta and her people are going to floo who they can and prep the rest. David, Frank, and I are going to escort the others, probably on foot, though Hogwarts' carriages would be rather nice. Once most of them are gone, you need to floo to Hogwarts. The password is 'valor's flame'. Will you be alright?"

"Yea, I think so."

"Good, we need to get going." The three Aurors and the four kitchen staff each took a seriously injured patient. They were put upon a floating stretcher and covered with jackets and blankets, some magically transfigured from items taken from the lost and found bin. Three minutes later they were out the door.

Harry added another support to the arm splint of the only patient that could possibly go through the floo. He then wrapped the damaged arm closely to the woman's body. She had a lot of internal damage, but none that would be terribly aggravated in the spinning of the floo. Still it wouldn't be a happy trip.

Madame Rosmerta came up to assist Harry. "Sir," she began, having not recognized Harry and having no time for introductions, "there's another patient that needs your attention. I'll take care of this one."

"Thanks," he said and he rushed over to the door where there were actually two people needing care. One was a female Auror and the other a resident who had wanted to defend his community. The man had a shattered tibia bone. The woman could walk, but she had been subject to a partial upper body and facial transformation. The female Auror supported the man and the two stumbled through the door. Harry took the man from the Auror. "If you could lay down on the table I'll be right with you," he said to the woman as he put the man on another table and tucked some transfigured pillows under his head.

At the huge fireplace Madame Rosmerta threw in floo powder, stuck her head in and called through the green flames, "St. Mungos."

The receptionist looked torn between either killing someone or just falling dead herself. "No more, no more," she shouted, not really looking at the floo caller, but at the chaos around her. "We're full and understaffed. If you need emergency care contact your personal mediwizard. St. Mungos isn't accepting any more patients at this time. Goodbye."

"Wait, I-" The call was cut off and Madame Rosmerta fell back on her butt. She stood up and dusted herself off and looked down at the injured woman. She looked worried. "Don't worry dear, I don't think we would have appreciated the care of those louts anyway. We'll be going to Hogwarts and everything will be all right. Okay?"

The woman shook her head in agreement, looking a little less nervous. Madame Rosmerta patted her free hand gently, the other still bound tightly with her destroyed arm to wounded woman's chest. Then she threw in a fresh handful of floo powder. "Hogwarts, Valor's Flame." She pushed in the floating stretcher and followed in herself, disappearing in a whirl of green flame. The fire then returned to its normal red-orange.

At the same time, Harry gave the transfigured Auror a pain-reliever potion. "I can't undo a transfiguration of this level," he told her. "You have three options, you can either go find someone who can reverse it, you can go to Hogwarts and wait for help, or…"

"I must return to the fight," she finished for him. He saw a familiar determination in her eyes, past the tentacles sprouting from her forehead.

Harry nodded. "I should send you on your way to Hogwarts, we're transferring everyone up there right now anyway."

"You wouldn't be able to stop me."

"I know," he said. He suddenly noticed how much shorter he was to the Auror. "Just be careful."

"Will do, Doc. Thanks." A cold blast of snowy air blew into the establishment as she whisked herself, still partially transfigured, back to the fight.

--

Severus Snape snarled behind his metallic green Death Eater mask. "No, I haven't seen that impudent brat." He clenched his fists tightly.

"Calm yourself, Severus," hissed the Dark Lord Voldemort. "I see the son of Lily and James Potter is still a sore spot for you." He chuckled. "The boy who could have been yours but is not."

He turned and gazed toward the far end of the atrium where jets of light flashed at infrequent intervals. "Potter is not here and Lucius insists the boy is not in Hogsmeade. I am surprised. You're sure the boy was at Hogwarts when you left?"

The green masked figure stood silent for the briefest of moments. "There was no where else he could have gone without my notice, my lord," Snape answered.

"Well," Voldemort said with a touch of concern, "I don't expect him to remain passive for long."

Snape said nothing and watched the standoff between the Aurors and the Death Eaters. They exchanged a few hexes and one of the Death Eaters cried out before toppling over. A Death Eater with a metallic red mask ran to his side and started berating the fallen man.

Voldemort pointed at the spectacle with an unnaturally pale hand. "Yaxley has spent too much time among these Ministry fools. He is fortunate that the Ministry is not my main target." The Dark Lord turned his red eyes back to Severus and probed lightly at the spy's shields. "I think he can continue to properly distract the majority of the Auror Department with his team alone. I want you to get McNair, Crabbe, and Goyle and assist Lucius and Avery in Hogsmeade."

"Yes, my lord."

"In two hours, I expect the entirety of Hogsmeade to be subdued. It will be at that time when we will join you. I want you to report to me personally when I arrive. Now go."

Snape bowed and immediately went about his new orders. He hoped Harry would, for once, not be his reckless Gryffindor self. Somehow he didn't have much faith in that hope.

--

Harry sighed and then turned to the Hogsmeade man with the ruined leg. There was a charm that would heal broken bones in an instant. He knew it, but the bone was completely shattered. Madame Pomfrey might have been able to fix it with spellwork, but for a less experienced mediwizard, like Harry, he'd have to remove the bone fragments completely and give him Skele-Gro. It was an amazing potion, but awfully painful as well. He knew firsthand.

The Three Broomsticks shook as the sound of an explosion thundered outside. Harry nearly jumped and his heartbeat sped up. The noise was followed by several other loud thumps and shouts muffled through the building's walls. Harry couldn't tell how far away they were.

"Healer," the man said as he grabbed Harry's sleeve. "I need to get back to my family. They're not far from here."

"Let me look you over first," Harry said, "or you'll be going nowhere fast." he pointed at the leg with his wand. "Have you taken any potions with Bloomslang Skin in the last day or so?" The Bloomslang Skin would react badly inside a patient dosed with Skele-Gro. He had heard it was horrific, and he didn't have any inclination to see it first hand.

"No," the man said somewhat confused. There was loud scream and the man looked at the ceiling and walls frantically.

"Sir, sir," Harry called. He waited until the man's eyes were on him again. "Sir, what is your name?"

"Nathaniel Buchamp."

"Nathaniel," Harry addressed the man. He forced himself to speak slowly even as the building rattled from another explosion. "Your tibia bone has been completely shattered. I'm going to remove the bones from your broken leg. It will hurt less. Once we get you up to Hogwarts we'll regrow them with Skele-Gro. Do you understand?" Harry looked around the Three Broomsticks. There were five dying patients, Nathaniel and him.

"My family," Nathaniel cried, "I need to protect my family."

"With that leg, you'll only put them in more danger. Stay still, please." Harry pointed his wand at the leg and focused for a moment. A whispered spell later and the leg was boneless. Nathaniel cried silently. "Shh," Harry said, "It'll be a few minutes." He pulled a thick blanket over the middle-aged man. "I need to the check on the others. If you need anything, just call." Outside sounds of spells being thrown back and forth increased.

The front door opened and Aurors Nick, David, and Frank came in breathing hard. Behind them was an orange glow from a fire that consumed a building farther down the small road. Harry had pointed his wand at the intruders, but lowered as soon as he saw who it was.

"They're too close," Frank said. "We need to be sneaky getting these guys out of here."

Nick did a quick count. "There's only six left. Harry, we'll have David stay this time and watch the last three. We'll take them one by one out the back up to Hogwarts. Come on," he beckoned, "they'll be on us any moment."

"No," Harry said, "I need to stay here." Nick started to open his mouth, but Harry cut him off. "What if more injured come in? Besides, you said earlier I'd have some immunity." Harry started moving Nathaniel onto a conjured floating stretcher.

"Well," Nick said and put his hand on his chin. "I don't know how far that'll go with Death Eaters. They _are_ evil."

Harry pushed the floating Nathaniel to David. "Here, take him. Give him one cup Skele-Gro as soon as you get there." Harry turned and prepped two more patients for transport.

"You stubborn fool," Nick muttered. "Fine, get going David, we'll meet you up top." David used his wand to guide Nathaniel out the back door. The building jumped and a decorated Christmas Tree toppled over. As soon as the next two patients were ready, Frank left at a run. Nick waited a moment for the other to get clear of the building. "We'll be back, Harry. Floo out, if there's trouble."

Soon Nick was gone, and Harry walked around between the three remaining patients in a slight daze, giving empty comfort to the dying.

--

It had only been ten minutes, since the Aurors left when the door banged open again. Harry had set his wand down next to one of the patients and been tucking him in when the Death Eaters charged in. They all wore black robes and had white skull shaped masks.

Harry put his hands in the air. He was clearly outnumbered and a bit too far from his wand to grab it off the table fast enough. He was so dead, once they recognized who he was. A Death Eater approached and gave him a rough pat down, checking his pockets. "He's unarmed," announced the Death Eater. Harry didn't recognize his voice.

At the door, another Death Eater stepped confidently and with poise into the Three Broomsticks. His cold eyes surveyed they scene. "Kill those three," he commanded, pointing at Harry's patients. He had on a silver colored mask, but there was no mistaking the cultured voice behind it. Lucius grabbed Harry and pulled him back out of the way.

Three Death Eaters stepped forward. There were two green flashes as they cast Avada Kedavra. The third sliced his wand through the air sharply and a cut formed on the last patient's throat. They were all dead. Harry's face burned and his eyes watered just a bit.

"Burn them," Lucius Malfoy ordered. Harry watched frozen as the bodies were spelled to burn. "Command will be upstairs, Triage will be down here." The Death Eaters immediately started enlarging shrunken supplies and setting up. Malfoy threatened Harry with his wand. "You, mediwizard, will heal my men to the best of your ability or you will be killed. Do you understand?"

Harry tried to speak, but his throat felt abnormally dry. Dry and crispy, much like his now burnt wand. He swallowed and tried again. "I understand."

"Good," Malfoy said sounding smug. "Ah, look, here are some patients now."

"I- I don't have a wand, sir."

"What? A mediwizard without a wand?" The man was so mocking. Harry wondered when he escaped from Azkaban even as the Death Eater spoke. "What happened to yours?"

"It was destroyed." Harry admitted. It had just gone up in flames a minute ago. Now he wouldn't have the protection from the brother wands when he faced Voldemort.

"Well, we can't have a wandless mediwizard, can we?" Malfoy shoved Harry towards one of the injured Death Eaters. "Do what you can for him." Malfoy left for a moment and Harry had only begun assessing the damage done when the aristocrat returned and silently handed Harry a new wand. When he grabbed it, it warmed to his touch much like his first wand had when he got it from Ollivanders.

As much as Harry didn't like helping the enemy he had been fighting against ever since he had entered the Wizarding World, he knew that a real Healer helped whoever was in need. They had an oath very similar to what muggle doctors had. Plus Harry was surrounded by very busy, but very alert Death Eaters. They were coming and going, and the injured coming in were even more constant, but they all managed to keep an eye on him. In turn, Harry kept his head down as he worked and spoke as little as he could. He couldn't fathom how no one had recognized him, but he didn't know how long that would last.

--

"Yaxley, if you please."

"Yes, my lord," the Death Eater said pleased. "Morsmordre!"

The atrium of the Ministry of Magic had been rebuilt over the summer. Their attack had left the newly reconstructed walls in crumbles once again, and in addition to that there was now a glowing green Dark Mark hanging threateningly in the air. The Aurors shuddered just looking at it.

A series of pops indicated the disapparation of a little over a dozen people. Then the room was quiet for the first time that day.

Finally after waiting uncertainly behind their cover for a few tense minutes, Tonks cautiously stuck her head out. Nothing happened, no jets of light, no movement, and no Death Eaters. "They're gone?"

The Aurors slowly wandered out and began to assess the damage.

--

Harry had been holding the floo powder in his left hand for about half an hour. He hoped no one noticed as he moved over to a new patient close to the fireplace. He hadn't been able to do much to heal with only one hand available, but that was just fine with him. He just wished there was a distraction or something, so he'd be able floo to safety.

The door slammed open and Harry wondered if that poor door would ever be the same again after all the abuse it had endured this day. A Death Eater ran in waving a parchment and a quill. "The Dark Lord is on his way," he shouted to his comrades. Harry knew that if he was going to get out before Voldemort came, now was the time. There was a flurry of motion as Death Eaters hurried to prepare and not look idle when their master came.

Harry turned suddenly and ran. Five feet away he flung the powder in the huge fireplace. The flames turned green just a split second before he ran into them and even as a few of the Death Eaters cast deadly jets of light at him, he murmured, "Hogwarts, Valor's Flame," so very quickly. The spells harmlessly disappeared into the red-orange flames where the boy mediwizard had stood only seconds before. The last thing Harry saw as he swirled away from the Three Broomsticks was angry, red eyes set in a snake-like face.

Harry tumbled ungainly out of the fireplace, a graceful landing the last thing on his mind. He was immediately manhandled onto his feet and a wand shoved under his chin. "Who are you," the voice barked in question.

The teen blinked the soot from his eyes and found himself looking up at two members of the Order of the Phoenix. They were Aurors as well. The man holding him at wand point was Kinglsey Shacklebolt and looking over his large shoulder was Nymphadora Tonks. They were standing in the Great Hall. Harry smiled, he had made it back. "Wotcher, Tonks."

"Harry? I didn't recognize you," Tonks said changing her hair blue. "You're not wearing your glasses, and you're so dirty." Harry didn't realize it, but he'd managed to get quite a bit of blood on his robes and even smeared across his forehead, covering his signature scar.

Harry gave Tonks a disbelieving look. "Uh, thanks?"

"Sorry about that," said Kingsley letting Harry go and dropping his wand to his side. "We, the Aurors, are coming through to Hogwarts to regroup and plan how to get Hogsmeade back from the Death Eaters. The rest should be on their way through soon. Speaking of which, where have you been?"

"Yea, Harry, you look worse than some of our hit wizards." Tonks tried to brush off some of the soot and flaking blood from Harry's robe as an apology for her previous comment. "Say," she said pulling back a little to look, "is that a Healer's robe?"

Harry just felt tired. Would no one allow him to speak? "Yes, it's a Healer robe," he snapped. "I just escaped from the Three Broomsticks."

"What? You couldn't have," Kingsley exclaimed, "that area is overrun with Death Eaters."

"I know." The two Aurors looked at Harry wide-eyed. Harry was already trying to figure out what to do next. He was especially concerned about his father, but what he had seen in Hogsmeade would help the Headmaster when they planned how to get Hogsmeade back. "Is the Headmaster here?"

"No, he's finishing up with the Minister and should be along soon," Kingsley said.

"How about Snape?"

"I don't know," he answered. "I haven't seen him, though." Tonks shook her head to show that she didn't have a clue either.

Harry sighed. He felt rather useless standing here. "Alright, let me know if they do show up though. I'll be in the Hospital Wing." He started walking to the large doors.

"Harry, it's crowded up there," Tonks called after him. "I hardly think they need you underfoot."

Harry turned around. "Is Poppy back?"

"Madame Pomfrey, Harry," Tonks admonished. "No, she's at St. Mungos, last I heard."

"Then I won't be underfoot." Harry dug in one of his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. He walked back to the fireplace and handed it to Tonks. "Since Snape isn't here, I'll be administrating potions in his absence as well."

The Aurors read the note. "Alright, Harry," Kingsley finally said, "if you need anything, just send us a patronus."

"Right." Harry didn't linger any longer. It had been five or six hours since he had left Hogwarts and as he hurried up the stone corridors up to the Hospital Wing he could see out the frosty windows that it had become dark.

The Gryffindor chewed his lip. There had just been some large battles and now it was growing cold outside. Where was Snape? Was he wounded? Harry cursed inside his head. He did this every time something happened. He'd be perfectly content to let Snape rot in hell and then as soon as his father was in danger, he'd worry about him.

He couldn't help but continue to dream of having a family, even if he was never meant to have one. Harry ground his teeth at the pain he felt. It went as quickly as it had come. Half a heartbeat later he realized the pain had come from his scar. If Snape had been undercover as a Death Eater, then Voldemort would know what the Potions Master was up to.

Harry stopped. It couldn't wait, he had to do this now or he'd be no help in the Infirmary, if he continued to be so preoccupied about Snape's whereabouts. The Gryffindor sat down at the feet of a friendly suit of armor. The stone floor was cold.

He closed his eyes and strengthened his Occlumency shields. Harry had several secrets that he had to keep the Dark Lord from ever knowing. The most important was that Severus Snape was his father. He had kept that knowledge secret for six years, and he wasn't going to reveal it tonight. When he was ready, Harry took a deep breath. He took another. Then Harry cast Legilimency along the link and entered Voldemort's mind.

Harry was pleased when he found himself in the Dark Lord's mind. This wasn't like the visions he'd had before where he was watching present events unfold through the Dark Lord's eyes. No, Harry was now able to access Voldemort's memories. He'd be able to find out so much information, but at this point his only concern was finding out where Snape was and if he was okay.

Harry searched and quickly found a recent memory.

Harry recognized it as part of the upper level of the Three Broomsticks where the Death Eaters had set up shop. There were several maps of the area spread across the table next to them and spelled to the wall. Malfoy had removed his mask and was standing behind Voldemort. He waited quietly.

The Dark Lord stared out the window. In the distance he could see the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He turned around and spoke slowly. "Lucius, you have done well."

"Thank you, my Lord," Malfoy said smiling. "Another hour and Hogsmeade will be completely under our control."

"Good," the snake-faced man said. He wasn't as pleased as he should have been, at this moment of triumph. "Now, I have a question for you." Lucius flinched under the Dark Lord's sudden sharp stare. "What was Harry Potter doing here," the Dark Lord hissed, volume building with each word, "and how did he manage to get away? Again!"

Lucius took an involuntary step back. "Harry Potter? Here, my Lord?"

"Yes, he was just flooing out as I came in. In quite a rush at that." Voldemort lips quirked at the edges just a bit and his eyes glowed with amusement.

"Merlin, the mediwizard was the Boy-Who-Lived?" Lucius sat down. "He didn't look a thing like him."

A lower ranked Death Eater ran up the stairs yelling, "Commander." When he reached the top, the man balked at the sight of Voldemort, "My Lord."

"What is it," growled Malfoy.

"We found these downstairs. It's Harry Potter's," the man shouted waving Harry's trademark NHS glasses around. "He must have been here earlier. Shall we start a search team for him?"

Malfoy snatched the pair out of his hands. "No, you fool-"

"But do start one for Severus Snape," Lord Voldemort cut in, looking at the clock. "He should have reported in to me by now personally, but he has not." He reached his hand out and Lucius put Harry's glasses in his hand. "I sent him here with the other teams."

"Yes, I spoke with Severus earlier." Lucius wandered over to one of the parchments used for communications. "After that he went with the others. I have not seen him since."

"Very well," Voldemort acknowledged. "I want Severus found. I will be most displeased if my Potions Master has died." The Dark Lord then walked downstairs and the memory ended.

Harry withdrew from his nemesis' mind. That had been the most recent Snape related memory and the Death Eaters didn't know where he was.

Harry bit his lip. His father couldn't have died, right? Snape always made it through. Not even getting bitten by Nagini, Voldemort's evil snake, would kill him. Right?

--

Chapter Posted: August 1, 2007

AN: I like hearing from you guys, so drop me a line, review, whatever. Thanx for reading! -IJedi


	10. Those Who Cared Knew Concern

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since the age of 10. During his sixth year unique methods are used to try to kill Harry and in the process his paternal secret eventually comes to light.

**Disclaimer:** I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

----

**CHAPTER 10: Those Who Cared Knew Concern**

Harry pulled the mediwizard robe up over his head before he darted in the infirmary and into Madame Pomfrey's office unnoticed. It was a small circus in the Hospital Wing, but before the show began Harry needed to get cleaned up. Harry took a quick shower and then donned a fresh mediwizard robe from the wardrobe he had searched earlier. It had seemed so long ago. There was a matching hat and Harry grabbed it as well and put it on his head on a lark.

The shower seemed to have reenergized Harry. He walked between the rows of Hospital beds taking in the current situation. Madame Rosmerta and the other staff from the Three Broomsticks were scattered throughout the infirmary. They did what they could: casting mild wound cleaning charms here and there, and offering a kind face to the injured.

Professor Sprout was helping a patient at the end of the row. He started heading in her direction when he saw an Auror robe out the corner of his eye. He turned and saw it was the Auror that he had only known by the name of David. He had been with Auror Nick and another one he couldn't really remember the name of.

"Sir," Harry said after walking up to the Auror's side. David and the patient he was with turned to look at the teen.

"Healer! You're alive," the patient exclaimed barely covering the pain in his voice. "We thought the worst when we saw the Death Eaters move in." Harry took a closer look at the man and saw it was Nathaniel.

Harry waved his non-wand hand in a placating manner. "I managed to give them the slip. How are you doing?"

Nathaniel scowled, "It's no picnic, but it could have been worse. I just wish I knew if wife and kids are alright."

"I'm sure they're just fine," David said. He turned to Harry. "I'm glad you're alright, Doc. Nick and Frank… They were caught right in the middle of things." The man paused and tried to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "There are several people that need to be looked at," he said softly.

David patted Nathaniel's hand and then started to lead Harry to the first newly injured patient. Harry frowned looking at all of the injured and dying wizards and witches. A quick glance at his regular bed showed it as one of the few that were empty. Open just in case Harry Potter needed it…

He was safe this time. He had run out into danger, but now he was back in Hogwarts. He wouldn't need the hospital bed. He should take the sign down. It was bad karma. Harry tried to relax his muscles. They were so tense that he was getting rather sore around his neck and shoulders. In fact, Harry's whole body was quivering. It took a few heartbeats before for Harry realized that it was his hypersensitivity to magic that he'd get sometimes when he was really stressed.

The teen leaned against the cold windowsill of one of the tall gothic windows overlooking shadowy snow-covered landscape. The Potions Master was out there, somewhere. It was freezing and barren except for some dangerous magical creatures. Outside there was a man who had saved Harry more times then he could count. That man had been there for Harry, but now he was alone. It was that moment in which Harry decided he'd keep his bed reserved for Snape.

Harry trotted after David and grabbed the Auror's robe, pulling him to the side away from where anyone who could overhear. "Sir," Harry spoke. He couldn't do this himself; his place was here, helping others in need. Still he needed to know, he needed Snape to be safe. He swallowed and started again, "Sir, I was wondering if you could find someone for me… They've gone missing and I'm really worried about them. It's distracting me from my work. I'd be able to work much better if I knew someone was looking for him. It's okay if you can't, I can go instead, but I thought I'd ask just in case…"

"Sure Doc," the Auror interrupted looking down at the babbling teen. Harry felt a sudden sense of relief sweep through his body. "Who am I looking for?"

Harry's face heated up momentarily. How could he explain that he was concerned for Severus Snape, ex-Death Eater? There was nothing for it. He scrounged up the rest of his Gryffindor courage. "Do you know Professor Snape?"

The Auror studied Harry's face before answering. "Yes, he started teaching during my 6th year and was my younger sister's Head of House." Harry noted that he declined to reveal any of his feelings towards Snape, but there wasn't any outward negativity. Harry felt a bit of hope burn in his side. He had to trust David. There wasn't anyone else.

"Don't tell _anybody_," Harry ordered in a low whisper. "But Severus Snape is a spy for our side. He was undercover with the Death Eaters, but when they took over the Three Broomsticks they said he had gone missing. I spoke with Kingsley and Tonks, but no one from our side has seen him either."

"Very well." David agreed. "I just have one question. Why do care about that git of a professor? I mean he's a master of his field, but not the nicest of teachers."

Harry glared at the Auror, but the heavy boulder in his gut seemed to lift and fade away. He couldn't tell the man the truth, but there was a half-truth that would explain his concern. Besides he didn't seem suspicious, just curious. Harry countered the inquiry by asking another question. "Who do you think taught me?"

"Madame Pomfrey?" The Auror looked certain at first, but then started to look doubtful.

Harry tilted his head in a slight nod. "Partly, but also partly Professor Snape," he explained. "I wouldn't know half of what I do without him and I still have a long ways to go." Harry rubbed the back of his head. "So will you do this for me?"

"Yes, I will. Nick and Frank would have done the same. I'll check in every six hours or when I find something. I promise." David touched his hand the breast of his red Auror robes where the MLE patch was stitched on.

"Thanks," Harry said, gratefulness coloring his voice. "And be careful."

David merely gave a cocky salute and a subdued smile before turning on his heel and getting underway.

Something got in Harry's eyes and he blinked it away before pulling out his new wand and getting to work.

--

The floo flared and out of the flames stepped Headmaster Dumbledore. He did his best to project the utmost optimism despite the heavy loses throughout the previous night and all through the day. Albus tried to think of some positive points and smiled at Auror Tonks and Shacklebolt.

"Good day Kingsley, Nymphadora," was the pleasant greeting. "How is the Auror Department faring?" Tonks scowled slightly at the use of her given name as usual.

Kingsley nodded, looking a little less tense with the Headmaster's arrival. "We're still regrouping. All the squad leaders available are upstairs and they have the latest casualty count and situation reports. We can start the meeting as soon as the Minister arrives."

"Yes, the Minister will be along in a few minutes." Dumbledore looked back at the fireplace he had traveled through. "His security detail is methodical if nothing else."

"Headmaster," Tonks said. "Harry was asking after you and Professor Snape. He's in the infirmary now."

The Headmaster felt a jolt of surprise and his cheerful countenance lost a bit of its sparkle. Harry, like all of the students, was his responsibility. Any number of terrible things that might have befallen Harry during the battles and these unknown threats quickly plagued Dumbledore's thoughts. He swallowed down the slight tang of guilt that had filled his mouth. "What happened to Harry?" Albus asked while thinking he should have made sure the castle was more secure before he left for the Ministry.

"Oh, no, Harry's fine," Tonks sputtered. "I mean, he was a mess, covered in dust and blood and all-" Dumbledore looked horrified for a split-second while Kinsley covered his face with his palm momentarily.

"Harry is helping up in the hospital wing." Kingsley spoke calmly in his deep voice, interrupting Tonks and trying to put everyone back at ease. "He had flooed in from Hogsmeade, but appeared alright." Both Tonks' face and hair colored, but she moved her head up and down briefly to confirm what the black auror had said.

The concern Dumbledore felt did not lift, but he nodded anyway. "I am glad he is well. I will see to Harry before we begin. Please tell the Minister that I will join them shortly."

"Yes, sir."

Headmaster tried to make his optimism contagious. Good morale alone could change the tide of a battle. "I feel this is the turn of the tide. We are no longer reacting to an attack upon us. Now we have a breadth of time to plan and take an appropriate course of action."

He nodded in approval of his own discourse. Then the Headmaster made his way to the infirmary to check on the Boy-Who-Lived as the two Aurors looked on.

--

Another pile of burnt and shattered wood marked the place where the cottage used to stand at the edge of Hogsmeade. The sonic explosion had blown the walls outward, cracking and splintering. Even the roof had flown straight up and then fallen, crashing down. The fire had been going and burnt a good section around it, but died out before it could spread. The snow fell gently upon the destruction in the cold night.

A man groaned. The sound came from where the study had once been. More snow fell, the sound soft and muffling. There was a grunt and then several boards and debris slid off of an old wooden desk. A slight flick of an ebony wand directed a heavy beam to lift and settle ungracefully a few meters off.

There was a pause. White flakes continued their downward journey, caring none for the magic that had taken place.

Out from under the battered desk, crawled a man. He took many slight, cold breaths and slithered over the wreckage. He was lean, with black hair and a pale face. He wore black robes and in his right hand, he clutched his wand tightly. The man slid over the cold ground and sat up against the fallen chimney.

Severus Snape growled at his situation, but could not pull together the energy to glare angrily. Instead he pointed his wand at his cloak and silently recast his improved variation of warming charm. His mind was quickly taking stock of the situation and deciding what to do next.

The Professor was surprised to have dueled so fiercely against one of the townsmen earlier. Severus had done his best to end the wand-fight, but without seriously harming his opponent. This once again proved that doing what was right was rather hazardous. A hex that Severus didn't recognize managed to catch him. If that wasn't enough, the other man had started placing a jinx upon the injury. Snape was just lifting his wand to retaliate, when there was a large explosion several lanes down.

People were screaming and shouting. Snape's opponent ran off to assist immediately, not even giving the green-masked figure a glance. Severus pulled himself up, muttering about Gryffindors. He made his way away from the action, hoping to go around the main battlefront and get fixed up before continuing his espionage. As Severus walked he started to notice that was losing sensation in various places of his body and had a tingling feeling in others.

At the end of the alley he was now hobbling down there was a drive leading to a cottage surrounded by trees and rather isolated. Severus took a slow, deep breath forcing the oxygen into his lungs. It seemed harder than normal. A slight wheezing sound escaped. Startled, but not panicked, Snape removed his mask and walked as fast as he dared down the drive. Each breath seemed to take more energy to draw then the last.

Soon he was on the steps and he exhaled in frustration at having difficultly breathing when he'd never had a problem before. This only forced him to strain to inhale. At any rate, the cottage appeared to be unoccupied at the moment. Snape knocked and then quickly bypassed the simple warding before stepping inside.

His search was quick and through. It was a strange setup for a residence. There was a sitting room, study, kitchen, water closet, and two rooms. One room as set up as bedroom with a bunk bed, but everything was very minimal and nearly bare. The other room had a large collection of muggle artifacts, weapons from the look of them. In the kitchen there was almost no provisions, and only non-perishables. They also seemed to have attempted to cook the muggle way, but it was a setup Snape certainly didn't see in his childhood.

He soon found the potions stock in a cupboard in the study. He was grateful that it was so complete and well stocked with vials of healing and offensive potions.

The Potions Master had been gathering the drafts he wanted to apply to himself when then the cottage had shook once and made as if to shake again. Snape, moving on pure instinct and adrenaline, dove under the desk. Then everything exploded. Randomly exploding cottages were not normal even in wizarding wars, especially if there was no one around. Snape wasn't sure if he had lost consciousness or not, but now he was out of the death trap.

Severus shifted and noted that he couldn't feel his legs at all any more. It was easier to breathe again, but considering he had a whole new issuance of pain from the explosion it didn't lighten his mood any. He pulled the three vials he had taken from the cupboard out of his pocket and downed all of them. He frowned when he didn't feel an immediate effect like he should have.

Using Occlumency to push aside his fear momentarily and clear his mind, Severus focused his thoughts before invoking the next spell. Out of his wand leapt a graceful, silvery doe. She pranced around the Severus for a moment and then leapt off into the woods removing the haunting shadows her glow had cast upon Snape's features.

The man cursed and shivered, feeling the cold even as he couldn't feel his extremities. The dark became darker and the snow blanketed everything. As Severus slipped into a miserable sleep he wondered if he would be seeing Lily's green eyes all too soon.

--

Chapter Posted: February 21, 2008


	11. The Search, Not Knowing

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural Occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since he was 10. Harry must deal with many unique attempts at his life and the ongoing war while studying to become a Healer and keep his parentage secret.

**Disclaimer:** I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Search, Not Knowing**

The glowing doe patronus leapt between trees, swiftly gliding around and at times through the cold tree trunks. It was traveling along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, carefully consuming the magic it was imbued with to make the journey. The snow glistened from the light of the silver doe as if in inquiry. Suddenly, the patronus came to a swift halt. Standing very still at the tree line the deer wiggled it nose. Then a little more confidently, it swung its head, first towards Hogsmeade, then to Hogwarts. There was a moment of magic rebalancing. Way back in Hogwarts' Infirmary, Harry shivered and looked over his shoulder into the dark sky beckoning from beyond the hospital wing walls. The doe swung its head back towards Hogsmeade. In a flash the sliver hoofs sprang over snow crusted ground. Help was closer this way.

David pulled his dark brown cloak closer around him. He preferred his black one because it was thicker, but the Death Eaters were wearing black and he felt it best do his part to avoid any confusion. By the time he had changed out of his red Auror robes and portkeyed away it had stopped snowing. He passed the main tourist drag that the Hogwarts students liked to visit. David smiled as he passed Honeyduke's. He and his best mate back in school were no exception to the small wizarding village's charms. Honeyduke's remained untouched, just cold and dark. He continued down the road, producing little white puffs of air as he exhaled. The cold bit at his face and his nose and ears were freezing red, feeling about ready to fall off.

Turning a corner, the Auror stumbled to a small degree as he stopped and took in the damage of the street leading into the Swinebutte District. He had gone this way as to purposely avoid the Death Eater's Headquarters at the Three Broomsticks. This way was no better. It was as if a small tornado had targeted this street only. Windows on the upper lofts were blown out and glass and household furnishings studded the ground as dangerous, hidden elements. A few draperies lay shredded, and a Dancing Dogwood tree lay prostrate across the cobblestone road, it's usually graceful branches, twisted in agony as it inflicted with arthritis or having suffered the Cruciatius Curse. There were a few villagers moving slowly down the walk as if lost or in a daze. A lone Death Eater was leaning against the wall beneath the overhang of a light blue house. His belt held three captured wands, his own still in his hand. David ducked his head and continued down the street trying his best to look downtrodden. It was easy to do as the atmosphere was far from encouraging.

After a few more blocks of striding aimlessly, David wondered just how he was suppose to track down a person when he really couldn't just start asking around about Snape without drawing a lot of unwanted attention. The Auror continued to trek through the snow; brain working overtime trying to figure out what to do next. The best he could do in the meantime was to follow the damage, which was easy enough.

The houses started to clear out and he was soon at an intersection. One way led to empty lots and the other to a row of houses. Midway down the lane was a small crowd gathered a safe distance away from a burning house. David made his way through the dirty slush to the group of people mournfully watching the flames.

"David," shouted a short black man making his way around to David's side. "David, how are you doing?"

"Willard," David greeted with a small smile. "It's good to see you. I'm doing alright. Yourself?" He patted his friend on the shoulder.

"Just a few bumps and bruises. They aren't all that exceptional duelers, except for that one fellow I came across. The Death Eaters just managed to provide enough confusion and distractions to catch everyone by surprise.

"My floo connection has been down for the last couple of days, so I didn't realize they had been attacking until they started blowing things up down the street. What a wake up call."

David nodded in sympathy. His friend was wearing civilian robes and blended in with the other townsmen, but he was also an Auror and had been friends with Nick and Frank as well. "I have some bad news."

Willard inhaled sharply and his posture stiffened. It must have been written all over David's face that it bad news of the worse kind. Aurors faced and endured a lot of extreme situations accepting the dangers of their chosen career path, but losing a friend in action was never easy to accept. "Who?" Willard asked, bracing himself for the answer.

"Nick and Frank." David tried his best not to remember, and forced himself to take deep shuddering breaths so he could calm down to speak again. "Frank got cornered into a AK, but Nick went down bloody. The Death Eater didn't use anything but cutting curses. It was horrible…"

Closing his eyes, Willard cursed under his breath. A moment later he opened his eyes again. "They'll get their due. Sounds like Nick had a run-in with Death Eater Jack."

"Jack?" The blond Auror was confused. "How did they identify him with his mask on?

Willard shook his head. "They didn't. People just started calling him Death Eater Jack, probably a reference to Jack the Ripper. They say it's pretty easy to spot him with him slashing his opponents up. Did you get a look at his mask?"

"I didn't really pay much attention to it. It looked normal from what I could see."

"Normal as in bone-white, skull-shaped?"

"Is there any other kind?"

"Yes, actually. I ran into one Death Eater with a metallic green mask. He was a trained dueler, very difficult, but I think I got him in the end. He might still be alive, but not for much longer." Willard paused in thought. "I wonder if there's any significance to the color."

David shrugged. "I don't know. Hey, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

"What do you need?"

"I looking for a missing person; he might have been caught up in all the action down here. I can't disclose who it is, but I'm out of ideas on how to find him."

"That's a pretty tall order. No one down here is looking particularly lost." Willard had always been rather practical, but he had a kind sense of humor to go with it. "I don't think I can help you if you can't tell me who he is. My grandfather could do a bit of scrying, but I don't have a knack for it at all."

"He might have been captured by Death Eaters…"

"Too much work, they're here to destroy and kill. However, if you really want to look into the possibility, we can probably track down that green-masked Death Eater I was telling you about. He probably didn't get very far, and he may just be a corpse at this point, but you could ask him about your missing person, if he's still breathing."

"It's worth a shot. Can you leave now?" David pointed at the burning house.

"Yea, it's not going anywhere. I hate magical fires, this one won't go out until it burns up all the magical items in there; that could be days for all we know. I could go for a walk anyway."

* * *

"I'm NOT a trained Healer!" Harry was shouting through the floo connection with St. Mungos. "I'm just a Hogwarts student. I even dropped out of Potions! There's no bloody way that I can perform this operation!"

"Well, in that case," The man said looking down his nose, "you're not qualified to diagnose an organ transplant in the first place." This man was just as unhelpful as the crazed woman who had been working the reception desk earlier.

"Look, it doesn't take an Unspeakable to do a body scan! The man is completely missing his stomach! You either get a stomach in his body before his magic core can't sustain him anymore or he will die!" Several of his patients around him in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts shifted around at the sound of Harry's yelling.

"We'll have to procure a certified medical examination to determine if surgery is warranted."

Harry wandlessly summoned a form from Poppy's office and it whipped madly over everyone's head and landed right into his hand. Harry scribbled down a few notes and signed with a flourish. "There, signed and certified. Now send a doctor over. Now." Harry glared at the man in the fire.

"You're not qualified to do that. You must be a trained and registered Healer to perform certified medical examinations."

The Gryffindor was ready to pull out his hair or smash his head against the wall. "This is so fu-"

"Harry," Dumbledore cut off Harry's curse as he joined the fuming teen by the Infirmary's fireplace. "I'm glad to see you're alright. Rosmerta needs you for a moment. I'll talk with Mr. Zeller while you're busy."

"Headmaster," Harry said in surprise.

Mr. Zeller frowned. "I'm afraid we don't have any medical staff available at the moment." Dumbledore faced the man with a look of great disappointment. "Um, we can put him down on our waiting list, though," the man sputtered.

Dumbledore looked back at Harry. Harry gave him a nod and wandered back through the injured wizards and witches rubbing his tired eyes. He was glad to see the Headmaster's kind face even though they weren't on the best of terms at the moment.

Harry had just finished working on a laceration that had nearly taken out the man's eye, when the Headmaster approached him. Harry thought it was kind of morbid how Dumbledore was beaming with a wide smile and sparkly-blue eyes amid all the injured and the dying, the blood and the screaming. Harry just wanted to lie down and close his eyes for a few seconds…

"Harry," the Headmaster said cheerfully. Harry snapped his eyes open and focused on what was being said. "I'm so proud of all you've done tonight. There's a small wizarding clinic near Godric's Hollow. Their surgeon is on his way as we speak."

Harry smiled. "That's great news, sir."

"Why don't you lay down and get a few hours sleep." Harry was about to protest, but Albus cut him off. "You've done all you've can for now. Get some rest, or you'll be of no use at all."

Harry yawned and nodded his head in agreement. When his yawn was done he mumbled something about waking him up if they needed him. Then Harry plopped down on "his" infirmary bed and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Willard led David down a crooked, but well-lit alley. The sky was pitch-black and the cold encompassed everything. Each light along the alley had its own little halo.

The Aurors carefully made their way around some rubbish bins when they spooked an alley cat. "Stupefy!" David pegged the feline as it made its mad dash to safety and it fell to the snowy ground with a soft "whump". David kept his wand aimed at the cat while the other man crouched down and did a quick scan.

He stood up and gave a half smile, "Nothing."

"Enervate," said David, reawaking the animal. "I always feel ridiculous when that happens."

"Better safe, than sorry." Willard shrugged. "You'll never know when it's a Death Eater animagus." The cat got back up and padded away looking slightly dazed. "We're almost there."

The men exited the alley into another lane. David kept a careful eye out, as they were the only ones on the road. It was very dark with only a few lights. Willard stopped walking forward suddenly only to slip up against the nearest building and raise his wand.

David copied his motion before peering down the street into the darkness. He couldn't see anything, and the only sound he could hear was the sound of the falling snow. David was about to ask Willard what he had sensed, when he spotted a small silvery glow. It was growing bigger. David could imagine hearing the sound of hooves. He wondered if it was a reindeer.

"What is it?" breathed David.

Willard lowered his wand. "Patronus – a corporal one, looks like a deer." The doe ran up and stopped about five meters away from the Aurors. The men stepped away from the building.

"Come on, we have to get going," David said, looking around as if to find the missing Professor hiding somewhere around on the road they were on. The doe turned around, pranced in the direction it had come for a few meters, and then stopped to look back at the two of them.

"She wants us to follow her."

"Why don't you tell me where you dueled that Death Eater," suggested David. "Then you can follow the deer."

"We fought at that intersection." The other Auror said and pointed, "but he's no where in sight now." The silvery doe stamped around impatiently. "It's best if we don't get separated. I think we should check out this patronus. They don't just show up out of nowhere, they have to be cast. There haven't been any dementor sightings, so maybe it's a distress call." Willard looked at David with momentary excitement. "It could be from your missing person."

David agreed and they followed the mysterious animal away from the lit streets and toward a more forested estate. It wasn't long until they were walking down an isolated drive. David and Willard glanced at each other at the same time. They had both heard voices that got louder as they approached and saw the flash of spellwork every so often.

The patronus faded out where the forest ended and the clearing began. Stealthily, the aurors rounded the last tree. Before them was a Death Eater with a plain mask on, his wand was pointed down at a victim withering on the muddy snow. Behind them were the remnants of a completely destroyed cottage.

"Halt!" Shouted Willard, not sounding at all like his normal friendly self. "Drop your wand," he ordered, "you're surrounded!" The Death Eater turned around on the spot and apparated away. David's light yellow curse flew through empty air and sizzled against a pile of bricks that had once been a fireplace.

"Merlin," David said in relief. "I thought he was going to attack us."

Both men hustled over to the figure on the ground. They rolled him onto his back and he gave a groan. "It's him, the one I've been looking for. We've got to get him back to Hogwarts." David pulled his hand away from the man's robes and took a moment to take in the blood that covered his winter gloves. Getting back to business, he transfigured a wooden stretcher to stabilize the injured man on.

"Professor Snape," Willard addressed the injured Potions Master. "It's alright, you're safe now." Snape gave no answer having already slipped back under. The aurors quickly strapped him to the stretcher and then they activated David's portkey to send them back to Hogwarts.

* * *

**Chapter Posted:** June 25, 2008

**AN:** Hello! I usually try to give review replies to everyone who is kind enough to review. I have not been able to do this recently, so now I would like to send a big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this fic or added it to their alerts or favorites. Thanx! You're amazing readers. -IJedi


	12. The New Patient

**Knew Father**

by _ImperialJedi_

**Summary:** AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural Occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since he was 10. Harry must deal with many unique attempts at his life and the ongoing war while studying to become a Healer and keep his parentage secret.

**Disclaimer:** I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

**A/N:** A huge thankyou and hug to my awesome Beta reader, my Mom! Thanx also to all of my patient readers who have reviewed, fav'd, or alerted this story. :D

* * *

**Chapter 12: The New Patient**

The Healer from Godric Hollow came with his assistant in the early hours of the morning. They quietly packed up and transported the more serious cases back to their clinic. After they departed, Albus Dumbledore dimmed the lighting in the Hospital Wing and bid Madame Rosmerta, Professor Sprout, and their assistants a good night before leaving.

He took a shortcut to the teacher's lounge. The Headmaster only paused briefly to speak a few words with the Aurors standing guard at the door. Once inside, the Headmaster was immediately accosted by voices of concern. He listened as well as he could while he took a moment to see who were present and take in the mood of the room. Not only was the Minister present, there were also MLE officials and other Department Heads. They were huddled together discussing their concerns depending on their department.

The Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement (MLE) officials were gathered around a large wooden table sorting through the latest Intel with Minister Rufus Scrimgeour. They had a magical map zoomed in on Hogsmeade and London. At the countertop running along the sidewall next to the sink and coffee pots the Commerce, Transportation, and Health Department Heads were pounding out emergency supply distribution and procedures. On the sofas and lounge chairs were the Head of the School Board of Governors sitting next to Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. They were discussing what do to with the few students still remaining at Hogwarts and how to inform the parents and guardians of the recent attacks.

Professor McGonagall had gone to visit her family for the winter break, but must have just returned in the last hour or two. She spotted the Headmaster looking at her and he gave her a nod of thanks across the busy room.

"Albus," growled Mad-Eye Moody at his side. "The Minister wants to see you." The ex-Auror had taken an advisory position with the MLE department. Still sporting the fake leg and magical eye that could see through most things, Moody turned about and made his way around a House-Elf serving snacks and food. Dumbledore followed suddenly feeling tired. Men his age had no business going without sleep for so long. He pulled out a lemon drop and sucked on it for a little bit more energy.

"Minister Scrimgeour," Dumbledore said politely around his lemon drop. Rufus Scrimgeour looked up for a moment before returning to his parchment. On his right sat the Head of the Auror department, Gawain Robards. Dumbledore took a seat in the chair offered him. Moody remained standing.

"Headmaster," the Minister said. "Thank you, once again for hosting us here at Hogwarts." Moody rolled his magical eye completely around in it's socket at the obviousness of why one would host the Auror Department in Hogwarts when the enemy was right on their doorstep. Scrimgeour missed the movement, but eyed Moody skeptically anyway. Albus did his best to look innocent despite his own amusement.

"We're finalizing our counter-attack." The minister continued as he straightened the parchments in his hand and set them on the tabletop. "Ideally, we'd want to strike them now when the sun has yet to rise and the Death Eaters are just settling down. Unfortunately, our own forces aren't prepared for an assault and won't be for another few hours. Not to mention they're just plain exhausted, affecting their decision-making capabilities. We could give them stimulant potions to keep everyone alert and running, but it would still take several hours to move the potions here and distribute them."

"We must assume that the Death Eaters also have such stimulants," Moody growled. He leaned forward. "They may not actually be sleeping, but moving to attack as we speak."

"I agree," stated Scrimgeour. "There is no advantage to dragging it out. It would be to the Death Eater's advantage to attack soon. They have taken the whole of Hogsmeade, but their position at the Three Broomsticks is weak. We have the advantage here at the castle. Our undercover Aurors have also been able to enter and leave the village of their own volition. You-Know-Who does not intend to remain at Hogsmeade."

"Minister," Dumbledore said in an even tone, drawing Scrimgeour's attention to him. "Voldemort may very well be preparing to take over Hogwarts." Rufus Scrimgeour nodded and the other witches and wizards around the table shifted in their seats. "However, we hold the high ground in this castle. We are hardly under siege. Perhaps we could fortify our forces here and wait for Voldemort and his Death Eaters to make their attack," suggested the Headmaster.

"What do you think, Alastor?" the Minister asked.

"We'll need a contingency set up, so that our people can be in place as soon as there is any indication that the Death Eaters are on the move."

"Setting up here would be good," Robards agreed. "My Aurors can get some rest. In the meantime we'll need to bring in more personal and supplies. I'm also concerned about defenses for the Ministry. With all of our attention here, it would be an fair opportunity for them to return and overrun it."

"Close the Ministry to the public, put a few Aurors and all of the current trainees there," Moody suggested. "I don't believe the Death Eaters would return to the Ministry, but we should be prepared to fight on two fronts."

"Gawain," Scrimgeour said. "Call up your reserves. We'll draw up procedures to be carried out at once. Hopefully, everyone will be fed and rested by the time You-Know-Who attacks."

"Yes, sir," Gawain Robards replied standing up. He strode over to his subordinates and started issuing orders.

Scrimgeour faced the Headmaster. "Are there any students in the castle, presently?"

"Yes, there is a handful. I'll speak with Minerva about moving them to a safer location."

"Good." Scrimgeour felt satisfied that they were taking the second best course of action, as the first was unavailable to them. Now they just needed to gather their resources and hope for the best. "If you know of any other _trusted_ people that can assist us, we would appreciate their help."

In response he got a light twinkle from Dumbledore's eyes. "I think I know a few."

The Minister gave another nod and turned to his remaining advisors while they quickly came up with plans of action. The Headmaster spoke with Professor McGonagall and the Head of the School Board Governors before retiring for a few hours. There was a constant flow of people moving in and out of the teacher's lounge. Minister Scrimgeour called over various Department Heads and continued planning into the early morning.

* * *

The Aurors landed harder than usual in Hogwarts' main entrance hall. Between them lay Severus Snape on a floating board. Moving swiftly, they directed the injured man to the Hospital Wing. The solid stone walls brought comfort to them.

The door to the Infirmary lay open and while there were still enough light to see with, it was dim enough for those who could were able to sleep. David spotted Harry and moved to his bedside.

"Harry," he whispered. David was about to gently nudge the youth's shoulder, but froze when he found Harry's wand at his neck. Harry's eyes were wide from waking suddenly and trying to place where he was.

"Sorry," Harry said. He lowered his wand and sat up, rubbing absent-mindedly at his scar. The boy felt a bit better now that he'd had a bit of rest. He tried to shake the grogginess from his body. "Any luck?"

"We found him," the Auror said flicking a glance towards Willard and Snape, "but he's not looking well."

Harry scooted off of his bed. "Put him here." The teen looked around the Infirmary. There were various tremors of magic around the room, but nothing that commanded his attention. He pulled the curtains around the bed so as to not disturb anyone who was trying to sleep. Harry pointed his wand at the nearest wall scone and murmured, "Lumos Maximus," so that only the bed and side table were lit.

They worked together to lift the skinny man from the makeshift stretcher to the bed. The wooden board stopped levitating and clattered to the floor noisily causing the three men to wince. Harry merely muttered a silencing charm to keep the noise from leaving the curtained off area.

Finally, the boy allowed himself to look down. Without even running a scan it was apparent that there was a lot that had to be done. Already he was going through the motions, waving his wand in patterns he had only mastered this night. Spell to insure oxygen was flowing into his lungs, spell to monitor his vitals, spell to detect malevolent magic, spell to detect injury…

"Did you happen to see a Healer out there?" Harry asked calmly. He wondered why he was so calm, why he really didn't feel anything when at the very least he should have felt overwhelmed. He figured it was probably adrenaline and was glad that his head was clear so that he could help the surgeon.

Willard stepped through the curtains. He was back moments later with a yawning Madame Rosmerta. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "The Healer had to return to Godric's Hollow, and he took our more critical patients. The Death Eaters had set fire to about half of the town and he couldn't leave his patients for any length of time."

Harry finished the rest of his spells with a shaky hand. "I can't do this," he whispered stepping back. "Er… we need Blood Replenishing Potion," Harry told the adults. Madame Rosmerta pulled a vial out of her apron and Harry gestured that she should administer it.

"I need to get going," whispered Willard in David's ear. David nodded and Willard quietly left the Infirmary. David rubbed his hand over his blond crew cut and continued to watch as the young mediwizard-in-training worked.

Harry spent a few moments inventorying the damage. The most obvious wounds were the lacerations that were liberally placed upon the Potions Master. His robes were shredded and all the cuts on his skin were still bleeding, having not the time to properly clot.

The spells Harry had cast also indicated internal damage; bruised organs, some kind of bronchitis, and a spinal injury of some sort. Harry quickly immobilized Snape's back. Also, there was some spell damage on his right leg. Harry waved his wand over the area, just above his knee. Harry furrowed his brow. The wand was flickering between a sickly yellow and purple glow. With his wand still in hand, Harry cautiously reached out and tentatively touched the leg. He frowned and felt the area around the hit.

"Uck," Harry said pressing on the frozen flesh and then the squishy bit next to it. "Did you see what he got hit with? Some kind of freezing charm, or something?" Harry pointed his wand very carefully. "Diffindo." The spell cut the fabric of Snape's trousers to expose the wound.

"We only saw the Death Eater cutting him up," said David.

"Merlin!" David said once he caught sight of the leg. Snape's skin and muscle seemed to have been freezing and thawing and then freezing again at the edges leaving a slurry of frozen flesh in the center.

"I think it's spreading," Harry said suddenly. He squinted at the wound and then pointed his wand at the edge of the damaged area. Nothing came to mind. The only marking spell he could think of at the moment was _Flagrate_, but he didn't know how the fiery marks would affect the injury. Harry raised his wand over their heads and pointed at Pomfrey's office. "Accio marker."

When the marker was in his hand, Harry quickly uncapped it and ran it around the edge of frozen and slushy skin. It was about the circumference of his closed fist. He also wrote the time before capping the black marker and tucking it in one of his robe pockets.

He picked up a thick reference book on Healing from the side table. He had left his own copy in the Three Broomsticks, but found an older edition in Poppy's office. "Where's Professor Sprout?" he asked as he flipped through the book.

"In the Potions Classroom," answered Rosmerta as she spelled the blood out of Snape's hair. She transfigured a few hairpins and set about pinning his hair back away from the bleeding gash. "Dumbledore wanted us to get some rest, but Pomona insisted on brewing some more healing potions."

"David," Harry called. "Go to the potions cupboard and see if you can find some Murtlap and, er, I can't remember what it's called. It's a purple potion."

"Sure, Doc." David's face relaxed as he was given a task to focus on.

Harry wiped his hands on his mediwizard robes. "Madame Rosmerta, if he finds the purple potion, I want you and Auror David to use it to sterilize the cuts before you heal them. 'Episkey' should mend most of them, but leave the deeper ones for me to examine first. Let me take a look at that one."

The woman moved aside and Harry leaned over the head wound. "It'll be fine, just clean it up and then close it. Use the Murtlap Essence, if we have any, to help it along."

"I'll do my best," she answered. She looked at the boy and noticed how much deeper the lines of his face were and how the single light above them covered him in deeper shadows. "You're doing very well yourself. How long have you been learning the art of Healing?"

"A few months," he said with a low voice. The curtain around Snape's bed was pulled aside and as soon as David stepped over the threshold they could hear the clinking of glass vials and jars.

"There were two purple ones," the Auror said. Harry took them both and examined the labels. He set down the jar of metallic violet paste off to the side.

David was left holding a jar in one hand and a vial in the other. "I didn't know if you wanted Murtlap or Murtlap Essence, so I brought them both."

Harry passed the half-full vial of purple liquid to Madame Rosmerta. "Here's the disinfectant."

Harry turned back to David. "We'll need both. Hand me the Murtlap. It's supposed to improve resistance to hexes and jinxes. I'm hoping it'll help with his leg."

David handed him a jar with sea anemone looking things in it. Harry popped open the lid and levitated one of the pickled growths onto a tray. Then he looked at his unconscious patient. Clenching his jaw tight, Harry proceeded to ignore the Murtlap waiting innocently on the tray.

Harry pointed his borrowed wand at Snape's right leg. "Ferula!" Bandages jumped out and wrapped around the leg. The teen's wand movements were sharp and abrupt. He remained silent, keeping his mouth closed tightly in a grimace.

David kept glancing up while he carefully removed the rest of Snape's destroyed robes and covered him with a hospital blanket.

Harry quickly moved to Snape's left arm. A few waves of his wand and it was roughly healed and bandaged. The white wrappings covered up the blackened snake and skull symbol. Harry hoped that the other two hadn't noticed the Dark Mark on Snape's forearm. Even though he had revealed to David that Snape was a spy, the three of them didn't need Voldemort's calling card staring them all in the face.

"You're not going to give him the Murtlap?" Rosmerta asked. She was healing a gash crossing Severus' shoulder.

"I can't." Harry walked around to other side of the bed and did the other arm in the same manner. "We can't feed it to him like this and I don't know how to spell it into his stomach." Harry swallowed. "I'm actually too scared to try. The stomach isn't that big of an organ and I could miss it completely.

"We'll have to keep him stabilized until a Healer becomes available," Harry said. His voice was a muffled. David looked up again to find Harry speaking into the thick Healing book. "We can finish closing up all the open wounds, and we can probably give him something for his lung damage." Harry jotted down a note, pausing only to reference the open book.

"David," Harry said. He held to a note out to the Auror. "Bring this to Professor Sprout and see if she can find it among Professor Snape's potions."

David took the note. "Dungeons, then? I'll be quick." The Auror left.

"Alright," Madame Rosmerta said. "That's the last of them. How's his leg doing?" She closed up the vials of potions and slipped them into her apron pockets.

Harry carefully removed the bandage from the hexed and jinxed leg. His hands felt warm compared to its iciness. "It's spread." He pulled out his marker again and ran it upon the ruined quadriceps. "It's alright," he said softly to Madame Rosmerta. "You can go." The woman nodded and went to check on the other patients also in the Infirmary.

Harry wrapped Snape's leg back up again with clean bandages; this time by hand. There was nothing he could else he could do to fix the damage to Snape's spine. When he was done he covered the prone man with a clean blanket and then pulled the curtains open. He removed the silencing spell and made his way around the Hospital Wing as well.

Most of the patients were sleeping. A few were having trouble sleeping due to pain or nightmares. Harry spoke quietly with a few of them and even had some house elves provide some breakfast for those that were hungry. All of his critical patients were gone, their empty beds clean and ready for the next casualty.

An hour later, Harry returned to Snape's side and sat in the chair. David had yet to return, but perhaps he had been called back on duty. Harry didn't know. He hadn't really known David or any of the Aurors that had helped him that night. Already Nick and the other, Frank, were gone.

Harry knew he was doing the best he could. He looked up at the man on the hospital bed. It frightened him that he didn't know what was wrong with Snape. Any other time it would have been perfectly all right, because if Madame Pomfrey didn't know what was wrong, they could always go to St. Mungos.

Well, that wasn't the case now. Whatever the situation was between Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic, their side had definitely lost something in that aspect. Harry covered his eyes with one hand. There wasn't anything else he could do. He had used up his resources, his talent, and intellect. He put to use every thing he had available and he was _losing_. He took a strained breath and shuddered. Harry Potter was losing.

Harry sat by his dying father and gave a small sob, hiding the pain in his eyes behind his hand.

The floo sputtered. Then it roared to life, large flames filling up the huge fireplace. At the same time the Infirmary doors opened and many voices drifted up the stone hallways.

* * *

Chapter Posted: July 22, 2008


End file.
